


Secret

by oncertwice



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:44:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncertwice/pseuds/oncertwice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Emma is engaged to Walsh and meets Killian a month before her wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma’s alarm clock woke her abruptly.

 

With a yawn and a few mumbled curses, she reached for it and pressed snooze. She knew that she ought to get up and start her morning, but why would she do that when her bed was so soft and warm and –

 

Her train of thought was derailed when her phone started to ring. Sitting up in her bed, she reached for it, rubbing her eyes tiredly. “Mm, ‘ello?” Her voice was still low and rough with sleep, but she didn’t mind. It was only Walsh.

 

He chuckled brightly on the other end and that woke her up a bit. “Good morning, beautiful. How are you?”

 

“’m fine,” she mumbled, shifting in her bed and wedging the phone between her head and her pillow so that she could lie down again. “How about you?”

 

“I’m okay,” Walsh panted. He sounded like he was out of breath, which told Emma that he must have just finished his morning run. He didn’t usually call her until he was about to leave for work, but she wasn’t opposed to hearing from him so early.

 

“So, I’m calling because we have that meeting with the caterers tonight at six. Can you meet me at my place?”

 

Emma’s eyes shot open when Walsh finished speaking. The caterers. For the wedding. Her wedding. To _him_. Sometimes it was too easy for her to forget that he wasn’t just her boyfriend anymore. The thought gave her butterflies and nausea at the same time.

 

_How was that even possible?_

 

“Right, caterers,” she appeased him, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Six, at your apartment. Got it.”

 

Walsh chuckled at her monotone response and she smiled. She always loved the sound of his laugh. “Good. I’ll see you after work then. I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” she promised as she hung up the phone and scurried off to the bathroom to take a shower.

 

-/-

 

After her shower, Emma spent a long while looking over her wardrobe choices for the day. She needed something that was appropriate for the office, but also a little bit on the casual side, since she assumed she wouldn’t have time to come back home and change before going to meet up with Walsh.

 

She settled on a black pencil skirt with a white, long-sleeved peplum top. The hem of the skirt rested just below her knees, and the shape of it was close-fitting, which worked well with the shape and silhouette of the shirt. She decided that the look was professional and still fun, so she’d be able to wear it to work and wouldn’t need to change before going to see Walsh.

 

Before heading out of her apartment for the day, she jumped into her favorite pair of black pumps and put on her red trench coat, giving herself one final look in the mirror before grabbing her purse and heading out to the elevator.

 

She pressed the down button and waited for only a few moments before the box to her left opened up and she stepped inside. She was greeted by Elsa, a friend of hers that she’d met when she moved into the building a few years ago.

 

She lived directly above Emma and, to be honest, their first meeting was less than pleasant, what with Emma calling in a noise complaint on Elsa one night when Elsa was blasting Guns ‘n Roses at two in the morning.

 

“Morning, Emma,” Elsa greeted her cheerfully, wearing a white top with a grey skirt and matching blazer, carrying her blue coat over one arm.

 

“Hi, Elsa,” Emma smiled and stared at the doors of the elevator as they closed and crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“How are you?” Elsa asked, putting her cell phone away into the pocket of her coat as she looked at Emma with her eyebrows raised.

 

“I’m fine,” Emma said coolly, putting her hands in the pockets of her coat. “Wanna get some coffee?”

 

“Sure,” Elsa smiled as the elevator doors opened and she let Emma exit first as she lingered for a moment so that she could put on her coat. She and Emma left the building and walked a few blocks away to a Starbucks where she insisted on paying for their coffee and Emma promised her that she’d pay next time.

 

Elsa wasn’t just Emma’s neighbor. They were close, after having worked together for more years than either of them could count.

 

“I’m not ready for that staff meeting we’re supposed to be having after work today,” Elsa sighed as she accepted her change from the barista and she and Emma walked down to the far end of the counter to wait for their drinks.

 

“There’s a staff meeting today?” Emma asked, incredulous. She had absolutely no recollection of such a thing. “I’m supposed to meet Walsh at his apartment after work so that we can meet up with the caterers! This doesn’t work for me at all.” Emma let out an exaggerated groan and pulled out her cell, dialing Walsh’s number. She held the phone to her ear as she and Elsa waited in the crowded coffee shop, surrounded by other patrons who were waiting to grab their coffee and run off to resume their morning routines.

 

“Hello?” Walsh answered his phone after only a few rings, and his voice was as even and calm as usual.

 

“Hi, Walsh. I’m here with Elsa, who just a second ago reminded me that we have a staff meeting after work tonight. I’m not sure I’ll be able to meet up with you after all.” She felt a pang of guilt sliver in the pit of her stomach. She hated to keep pushing more and more of the responsibilities into Walsh’s lap, but he knew how important her job was to her, so he never fought her.

 

“Emma, sweetheart, don’t worry about it!” He reassured her and she breathed out a sigh of relief as one of the baristas called out Elsa’s name, letting them know that their drinks were up. “I can meet up with the caterers by myself, it’s really not that big a deal. Uh, I think it was only in regards to a minor detail like napkins or placemats or something.”

 

“Does that have to do with catering?” Emma asked, smiling appreciatively at Elsa as she accepted one of the two paper cups she held.

 

“Maybe?” Walsh guessed and the boyish tone in his voice made Emma laugh.

 

“Well, I’m glad you know that you can cover this one without me. You’re the best, and I hope you know that.”

 

“Oh, go on,” he joked, and they both shared a laugh as Emma and Elsa exited the Starbucks and went out to the curb to hail a taxi.

 

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Emma asked, hating that she wasn’t going to see him tonight, but also for some reason feeling somewhat relieved.

 

“Definitely. Oh! And don’t forget: my main man is finally in town! I can’t wait for you guys to meet!”

 

“Oh, right. What is it you call him? The Angry Something-Or-Other?” She bit her lip against a smile when she heard his frustrated groan.

 

“Emma, he’s the Mad Dog, and you know it. You’re gonna love him.”

 

She rolled her eyes at Walsh’s infatuation with his best friend. Emma had never actually met the guy, as he’d been travelling across the country for the entire year that she and Walsh had been together. He’d only barely managed to get time off to help out with the wedding and be Walsh’s best man.

 

“Whatever you say, hon.” She mused, taking a sip from her cup as a taxi stopped in front of them. Elsa turned to Emma with an expectant eyebrow raised and cocked her head in the direction of the cab. “Alright, I have to go, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

 

“Perfect. Love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” she hung up her phone, giving an apologetic look to Elsa, who must have felt somewhat invisible while Emma had been caught up on the phone.

 

“Sorry about that,” Emma mumbled as Elsa climbed into the cab and gave the address of their office to the driver.

 

“It’s fine,” Elsa sighed, giving Emma a patient smile. “Wedding comes first, I get it. Even before me. Your maid of honor. Your best friend of seven years. Don’t mind me.”

 

Emma snorted out a quick laugh and rolled her eyes. “You’re such a drama queen.”

 

Elsa laughed at that and took a sip from her coffee before looking at Emma again. “So how is all of that going?”

 

“The wedding planning?” Emma asked, even though she knew that that was exactly was her friend was talking about. “It’s fine, I guess. I mean, the wedding’s only a few weeks away, so there isn’t much actual work left. We’ve got the venue.”

 

“Yes, the ballroom at the plaza,” Elsa chimed in as Emma continued to list.

 

“We have a DJ.”

 

“Check, some dude named Jefferson.”

 

“And we sent out our invitations two weeks ago.”

 

“And you’ve gotten about a hundred RSVPs so far.”

 

Emma shuddered when she heard that number. She never pictured herself as someone who’d want to have such a huge wedding, but Walsh was a lawyer, and someone in his line of work did a lot of networking, which meant there were a lot of work contacts and other connections that needed to be acknowledged.

 

“His family is flying here in three weeks, and his best man just got here last night.”

 

“Oh, right,” Elsa mused, taking a sip from her cup and tilting it upward so that she could drain it. “The angry guy? You looking forward to meeting him after all this time?”

 

Emma laughed at Elsa’s guess and finished her own coffee. “It’s the Mad Dog, and I don’t know what you mean by ‘all this time.’ Walsh and I haven’t been together all that long, and the opportunity never really came up for us to meet.”

 

“That makes sense, I guess.” Elsa shrugged as the cabbie pulled up to their office building and she reached for her purse.

 

“No way are you paying for this!” Emma protested and grabbed some wadded bills from her own pocket and handed them to the driver. “You paid for the coffee.”

 

“Fine,” Elsa sighed and opened the door to the cab, putting both her feet on the ground outside before rising from her seat, “but I pay cab fare tomorrow. Both ways.”

 

“That’s fine by me,” Emma conceded, and hopped out of the cab as well, linking her arm with Elsa’s as they walked toward the building.

 

When the pair finally got into the office, they walked over to their shared cubicle and went about starting their work day. Emma shrugged out of her coat and draped it over the back of her chair, deciding to go to the break room to get a cup of coffee.

 

Sure, she’d had one before coming to work, but she was going to need all the caffeine she could get if she was going to make it through this day.

 

The break room wasn’t anything fancy, just a medium-sized room with plain, white walls, a table that the employees could sit at to eat, and a fridge where they could keep their lunches. There was a microwave on the far counter, and some cabinets above it. Emma walked over to the cabinets and opened one, looking for the mug that she kept at work.

 

It was nothing special, just a white mug with her initials on it so that she’d recognize it if someone else tried to use it – which had happened more times than she’d like to recount.

 

Grabbing her mug, she walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup, leaving enough room in the mug for her cream and sugar. After she mixed her coffee she took a tentative sip of it, testing its temperature. Satisfied that she could now continue on with the rest of her day, Emma turned to leave the break room, only to be stopped by one of her coworkers coming in.

 

“Good morning, Emma!”

 

Emma plastered a shallow smile onto her face as Mary Margaret Blanchard strode gracefully into the break room. Mary Margaret was a nice enough woman, but Emma wasn’t sure if she had the time to talk to her this morning. She tended to ramble. That, and she’d just recently returned from maternity leave, so almost every other sentence started the same way –

 

“You won’t believe what my little Neal did this morning.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes at the all-too familiar sentence and turned to face Mary Margaret, who was pouring her own cup of coffee.

 

“Try me,” Emma responded, hoping that the happy tone to her voice didn’t sound too obviously fake.

 

“Well,” Mary Margaret started, taking a seat at the table, “he woke up at five this morning and he stood up in his crib, just, you know, whining for me or my husband to come and get him, but, today, I beat David to it. I decided to let him sleep since his hours at the police station have suddenly picked up and he’s been doing a bit of overtime since I had the baby. You know, I say to him, ‘David, you’re going to run yourself into the ground,’ but he just shakes it off. Typical David. It’s funny, when we first started dating—”

 

“Mary Margaret,” Emma interrupted, smiling as she began to tap her foot impatiently, “you were about to tell me something about the baby?”

 

The brunette swallowed the sip she’d just taken from her mug and then smiled. “Oh! That’s right! I’m sorry, Emma.” She chuckled out a quick laugh and then scratched her head as if it would help her remember what she’d been about to say.

 

“He woke up at five…” Emma prompted her, trying to help speed things along.

 

“Right! He woke up at five and I went into his room see what was up. And wouldn’t you know it, he’d somehow managed to take his diaper off while he was sleeping! It was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.” Mary Margaret started to laugh to herself, and, although Emma found the story to be the very definition of unrelatable, she found herself smiling, too.

 

“That’s um, really cute, Mary Margaret.” She managed to say before walking backward to the door. “I’ll see you at the meeting tonight, right?”

 

“You sure will!” Mary Margaret nodded with a broad smile. “And I want you to tell me all about your wedding later!”

 

Emma felt that familiar weight return to the pit of her stomach at the mention of her upcoming nuptials but smiled anyway, nodding and offering a quick ‘sure thing’ on her way out of the door.

 

This wasn’t going to be an easy day by any means, but she knew that if she had any chance of even making it to the meeting later, she’d have to keep a low profile and probably avoid Mary Margaret for the rest of the day.

 

-/-

 

Emma was glad to be able to say that she had made it through her work day. It was finally six o’clock, which meant that all she had to do was sit through this meeting and then she could go home.

 

After gathering her coat and purse, she waited for Elsa to do the same and the pair walked over to the conference room, where their boss, Regina Mills, was about to start speaking. They took the only open chairs they could find, which were luckily by the door, and settled in as they waited for Regina to start talking.

 

“Okay, people,” Regina sighed as she turned to face the small crowd of people gathered in the room before her. “I’m having some issues with scheduling and I just wanted to make sure that nobody is opposed to picking up an extra few hours next month when Emma goes on her honeymoon.”

 

Emma’s face turned a bright shade of pink as every head in the conference room turned to her with soft, smiling faces and happy stares. She smiled meekly and nodded, wanting nothing more than a change of subject.

 

“Oh, that’s right!” Mary Margaret nearly sang. “You still haven’t told me all that much about your groom-to-be! What’s his name again?”

 

Emma clenched her jaw, but tried her best to keep her tone lighthearted. “It’s Walsh.”

 

“Oh, he’s one of _those_ guys,” joked Sidney Glass, Regina’s assistant. “He’s got a last name as a first name.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes, deciding not to comment or rebut. “Yep. He sure does.”

 

“So, how did you meet?” Mary Margaret leaned forward in her chair across the room, resting an elbow on a knee and perching her head on a closed fist.

 

“Uh,” Emma felt her stomach twisting with all of the attention she was being given, but she pressed on, answering the question as best she could. “Well, he’s a lawyer. And, about a year and a half ago, my foster brother got into a little trouble, so we used Walsh to represent him.”

 

“Oh, how sweet!” Mary Margaret crooned, clapping one hand to her heart. “Now, how long have you been together if you only met a year and a half ago?”

 

_This_ question. Emma always hated answering _this_ question. Because with it came the judgmental looks and the sympathetic stares as if condolences were in order.

 

“We started dating a year ago, and he proposed to me at about eight months.” She answered flatly, simply stating facts.

 

“Now, that’s what I call fast.” Sidney bellowed out a quick laugh and shook his head.

 

“Wow, only eight months? And you love him enough to marry him? That’s wonderful Emma. What are his parents like?”

 

_Fuck_.

 

“I don’t know. I haven’t met them yet. Or any of his family, really.”

 

“Hm,” Mary Margaret made a pensive face at that and shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I’m sure they’ll just _love_ you.”

 

Emma gave a tight-lipped smile at the compliment and sighed heavily when Regina finally called the attention of the room back to her.

 

Elsa leaned in to Emma, dropping her voice down to a whisper. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Emma lied, hoping with all of her might for this meeting to end so that she could go home and escape into her bed.

 

Once the meeting was over, Emma and Elsa grabbed their things and left the conference room together.

 

“Oh, it’s Thursday, isn’t it?” Elsa mumbled to herself mostly as she pulled out her phone to check the date.  
  


“Yeah, it is, why?” Emma asked, putting on her coat and flipping her hair out of the back of it.

 

“I’m supposed to go to Anna’s for dinner.” She answered as she dialed her sister’s number and took a few steps away from Emma so that she could speak privately.

 

Anna was only a few years younger than Elsa, but Elsa was extremely protective. Emma had gotten to know Anna well over the time that she’d been friends with Elsa, and Anna was almost the exact opposite of her sister. Where Elsa was calm and reserved, Anna was bubbly and outgoing. She’d moved to the city with her boyfriend Kristoff a few years ago to be closer to Elsa, and, at first, Elsa was worried that Anna wouldn’t be able to make it on her own in New York, but it didn’t take long for Anna to prove her wrong.

 

“Okay, Anna, I love you.” Elsa walked back into earshot and Emma turned to face her. “Okay, bye.”

 

“So, what’s the verdict?”

 

“We’re still on, just a little behind schedule because of this meeting.” Elsa brushed some stray hairs out of her face as they stood on the sidewalk outside of their office. “Can you believe she assembled us all just to let everybody know that it’s your fault that they’ll be taking extra hours next month? Unbelievable.”

 

“I know,” Emma sighed, tucking her bangs behind her hear, “and really annoying.”

 

Elsa chuckled at that as a cab stopped in front of them. “You wanna take this one?”

 

Emma shook her head and shrugged. “I have nowhere to be. You can have it.”

 

Elsa smiled warmly at her friend and pulled her into a tight hug. “Alright. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

 

Emma hugged Elsa back, wrapping her arms around the woman’s lithe waist and resting her cheek on her shoulder. “I’ll think about it.”

 

They both shared a short laugh at that and then Elsa pulled away, hustling over to the cab, clearly eager to get out of the cold. “Love you!” She called over her shoulder, waving at Emma as she got into the car.

 

“Love you, too,” Emma called back, waving goodbye as the taxi pulled away.

 

She stood by herself on the sidewalk for a few moments before she was approached from behind.

 

“Hello, Emma,” she recognized that voice and it made her roll her eyes immediately.

 

“Hi, Archie.”

 

Archie was the office mediator, so (in Emma’s opinion, at least) he was constantly looking to solve problems that did not exist.

 

“How are you? Excited about your wedding?”

 

His tone was almost sympathetic and it made Emma want to say some very angry things to him.

 

“I sure am,” she replied without a trace of enthusiasm, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat.

 

“I heard that you two have only been together for a year or so.” He was standing beside her now, hands in his own pockets as he swayed back and forth.

 

“That’s right.” She affirmed as she wondered where he was going with this.

 

“Do you really think that’s long enough to know someone?”

 

_And there it was._

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She cursed herself for engaging, but she knew that if she didn’t let him have a piece of her mind, she’d be bothered about it for longer than it was worth.

 

“Emma, you haven’t even met his family yet. You can’t possibly know him well enough to commit to spending your life with him.

 

Emma sighed and turned to face Archie head-on. “News flash, Archie: I’m not marrying his family, I’m marrying _him_! Why should I care what his family is like? He’ll never meet my parents, and he seems more than okay with that!”

 

Archie sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Look, Emma, I don’t mean to upset you, but there’s a lot of things that need to be considered before you take as big a step as marriage.”

 

“Archie, are you married?” She knew it was a low blow, but she was eager to get this conversation over with.

 

“Me?” He balked, flustered by her question, but then shook his head. “I, well, no. I’m not.”

 

“So what exactly makes you think that you’re an expert on the institution? I’m not going to stand here and be berated by you, while you, most likely, have no idea what you’re talking about. We’re done here.” With that, Emma turned on her heels and walked away from Archie. There was no way she’d be able to relax after such an unpleasant interaction, so she figured she’d walk over to a nearby hotel and grab a drink in the bar.

 

Her office was only a few blocks away from the Four Seasons, and she had to admit that this wouldn’t be the first stop she’d made there in recent weeks. With her wedding to Walsh on the horizon, she’d found herself becoming more and more stressed about it. In her defense though, this _was_ the first stop she’d made there this week.

 

She walked through the revolving doors at the entrance and made a beeline for the lounge, where she approached the bar and draped her coat over the back of a chair.

 

There weren’t many other people around her, the closest being a dark-haired man who kept his eyes trained on his drink. Didn’t seem like he posed much of a threat, so she didn’t mind having to sit closest to him.

 

“Evening, Miss Swan,” the bartender greeted her warmly and she smiled at him as she climbed onto her stool. “You here for your usual?”

 

She smiled and nodded eagerly, flipping her hair onto one shoulder. The bartender was gone, but returned in only a few moments with a double shot of whiskey, neat. “Thanks, Vinny,” she smiled at him appreciatively and he have a curt nod before walking off to attend to some other customers.

 

She lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip of it, delighting in the slight burn of the alcohol as she swallowed.

 

“Swan, eh?”

 

Emma cocked an eyebrow and turned her head toward the dark-haired man who was now looking at her with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

 

“I sure hope that’s a last name, but, if not, I’m sure you’re used to it.” He chuckled at that and took a sip from his own glass, setting it back down on the bar gently. “What’s your first name?”

 

Emma narrowed her eyes at him and made a short sound of disgust. “Why would I tell you that?”

 

He chuckled to himself and shook his head. “Alright, if that’s the way you want it.” He extended a hand to her and she shook it, against her better judgment. “I suppose you can call me Jones, then. Since we appear to be on a last name basis.”

 

“Right. Jones. Got it.” She took a sip from her glass, replacing it on the bar and then turning her head to look at him. “Nice to meet you.”

 

He wasn’t at all bad to look at. Rugged jaw line, visible stubble and a slight scar under his right eye. Actually, he was gorgeous. The accent didn’t hurt, either. He wore a blue, plaid button-down shirt, which was hanging open; his white, V-neck tee shirt was clearly visible underneath. The sleeves of the plaid shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and Emma found herself looking over every part of his ensemble, from his shirts, to his dark wash jeans, all the way down to the boots he wore on his feet.

 

“So, Swan,” he drawled as he let go of his glass and turned on his chair so that he could face her. “What brings you here alone?”

 

She took a moment to think about her answer. “What makes you think I shouldn’t be?”

 

He nodded to her left hand, and she remembered _(how did she forget?)_ that she was engaged.

 

She looked down at her ring and instinctively brushed over it with her thumb. “Oh, that. Ha, that’s actually the reason why I’m here.”

 

“Hmmm,” he mused as he took a sip of his drink again, his free hand drumming lightly on the surface of the bar with his fingers. “Stressful wedding?”

 

“Stressful everything,” she answered with a short, stunted chuckle.

 

“Ah, what’s the matter love? Is your fiancé not Prince Charming?”

 

Emma couldn’t help but notice the hint of sarcasm in Jones’s voice, but she pushed it out of her mind. She really didn’t owe him any explanations, and yet she found herself drawn to him, willing to tell him anything he asked.

 

“He’s perfect, actually. I love him, I just—” She stopped herself, she was rambling into some really personal stuff, and she didn’t want to pour her heart out to a total stranger. “Never mind.”

 

His brows furrowed and he looked at her with sympathetic eyes. She turned back to him, and this time, the sympathy that she saw reflected back at her didn’t make her want to punch someone in the face. It looked less mocking and more sincere; honest and open.

 

“Don’t do that to yourself, love,” he told her, reaching out to pat her lightly on the shoulder. “If you need to talk, go ahead. I don’t live around here – I’m actually only in town for a month or so. I have nothing better to do than to help a beautiful woman out with her problems. Trust me, sometimes it’s easier to vent to a stranger.”

 

Emma shook her head, turning back to her nearly-empty tumbler of whiskey. “I don’t want to bother you.”

 

“Swan,” his hand squeezed her shoulder softly and he nodded at her encouragingly, “go ahead.”

 

She sighed before nodding back at him. “Well, my fiancé, he’s amazing. He loves me and he’s so supportive – I was actually supposed to be with him tonight so that we could iron out some details for our wedding, but I had to bail on him. He was so nice about it.” She breathed out a short laugh and shook her head. “He’s like that.”

 

“So what the problem?” Jones asked, taking another sip from his drink.

 

“There isn’t one. I just – I know that I want to be with him, marry him. But we haven’t been together for all that long, and sometimes I can’t help but feel like everyone is right. This is too soon.”

 

“Then why not push back the wedding?”

 

“I don’t know,” she sighed, tucking her bangs behind her ear. “I grew up in the foster system. I never really had a family. Never felt like I belonged anywhere.”

 

On a whim, she looked up at Jones’s face and the understanding that she saw reflecting back at her made her heart skip a beat.

 

“Then I became an adult. And I got my own place. I got a good job and I saved every single penny I made until I could move into a decent apartment and get an even better job. I was happy on my own. I was so sure that I’d never need another person again. Then fast forward a few years, and I met him.”

 

“I’m still not hearing a problem, lass.”

 

“I met him, and he made me feel so loved, so needed. Something about him attracted me from the start. Maybe it was the security, the friendship, I don’t know. But sometimes I wonder if that may be the reason why I’m rushing to get married. Because I’m afraid that if I don’t hold on to him he’ll leave.”

 

“Ah, there it is,” he sighed as he lifted his tumbler and drank the remainder of its contents, signaling to the bartender that he’d like another. He turned to Emma and looked down at her glass. “What are you drinking?”

 

“No, it’s fine, you don’t have to—“

 

The bartender reappeared and Jones motioned to both of their glasses. “I’ll have another rum, and she’ll take another of whatever it was that she had. Thanks, mate.”

 

He settled back down in his seat and looked at Emma earnestly. “Listen to me, Swan. I don’t know you, and I don’t know your fiancé, but if you have any doubts at all, you should hold off on attaching yourself to this bloke for life.”

 

“Thanks,” She nodded at his words as that same sense of discomfort slivered in the pit of her stomach. She was ready to change the subject. “So, tell me about yourself. What is _your_ love life like?”

 

He let out a bellowing laugh at that, even tossing his head back for good measure. “There isn’t one to speak of. I’m not really one for more than a one-night stand. I hate to say this aloud, but I think I’m too much to handle. More than one dose could prove fatal for an unsuspecting lass.”

 

Emma grinned at that, laughing as she clapped a hand over her mouth.

 

“Now _there’s_ a smile,” he said, his voice dropping nearly an octave as he leaned in and pulled her hand away from her face. “Don’t cover it up, Swan. The world deserves to see that smile.”

 

He let his hand linger on hers and she couldn’t ignore the sparks that ignited over her skin where he touched her. They stared into each other’s eyes for an intense moment before they were interrupted by the bartender, who set their drinks down in front of them.

 

Emma broke eye contact with him and focused on her new glass of whiskey, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

 

Though they weren’t talking, she could feel his eyes on the side of her face, watching and observing her silently.

 

She brought her glass to her lips and knocked back the entire thing, feeling oddly proud of herself that she didn’t choke. She swallowed and gave a heavy sigh as she turned to Jones.

 

“Buy me another?”

 

He smiled at her sudden change in mood and nodded, flagging the barman down once again.

 

Vinny poured Emma another drink and she nodded to him in thanks as she picked it up and took a sip from it. “So, _Jones_ ,” she giggled as she emphasized his last time, running her finger around the rim of her glass. “You say you’re only into one-night stands. What’s the real reason behind that?”

 

He raised his eyebrows at her, as if he wasn’t expecting such a serious question to be thrown his way. “Well, _Swan_ ,” he mocked her, “there are fewer strings, which means fewer emotions, which means less mess. I’m a free spirit of sorts, and I don’t much like to be tied down.”

 

He took a sip of his rum and then looked back to Emma with a devilish smirk on his face. “At least not in the _metaphorical_ sense.”

 

Emma snorted out a quick laugh at that and shook her head. “Watch it, buddy. I am engaged to be married.”

 

He nodded at that, licking his bottom lip as his eyes took her in. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten.” He slid closer to her on his chair so that his knee was touching hers. “You know, Swan,” he started, letting one of his hands drop to her knee, “I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

 

Emma’s breath caught in her throat when she looked down and saw his hand on her, his fingers brushing lightly back and forth over the smooth material of her skirt. “I think that—“

 

“I think you think too much.” He nearly whispered as he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers.

 

Emma gasped in surprise, but she didn’t fight him. He grew braver, moving his hand from her knee to the side of her face, pulling her closer to him. She felt as though she were in a trance, unable to pull away from him even though she knew that anyone could just look over and see them.

 

After a moment, they were interrupted again as Vinny came over to them, arms folded across his chest. “You know this is a hotel, right?”

 

Jones laughed at that and pulled away as Emma did the same, her cheeks glowing red. She flashed Jones a cheeky smile and leaned in again, placing a soft, teasing kiss on his lips. “What do you say?”

 

His eyes were glued to her lips as she talked, and when she finished speaking he kissed her again before pulling back. “What do I say to what?”

 

She laughed at that and picked up her glass, drinking the rest of her whiskey and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before hopping off of her stool and standing in front of Jones. She leaned in again, but, this time, instead of kissing him, she brushed her nose against his as she spoke. “What do you say we move this party upstairs?”

 

She heard him groan in the back of his throat as he slapped some bills down on the bar and got up to lead her to the elevators. She grabbed her things and followed behind him, not daring to think about anything other than the way he was about to make her feel. Nothing else mattered. Not right now.

 

He pressed the up button and Emma kept her eyes trained on the closed elevator in front of her, not wanting to risk a look at him. She didn’t want to back out.

 

An elevator opened up to their left, and he cocked his head in its direction. Emma followed behind him and they stepped into it. Since they were going up from the ground floor, there was nobody inside it, but after they entered it, a few other guests walked in behind them.

 

Jones pressed the number five and then leaned up against the wall at the back of the elevator and she stood next to him, her breath catching in her throat when his hand reached for hers, lacing their fingers together.

 

She gripped his hand tightly, holding onto him as the elevator started to move. She watched the numbers above the door light up, as did he, and she held her breath every time it stopped and the doors opened on lower floors. When it got to the number five, the doors creaked open, and he lead her out of the elevator and down the hall to his room.

 

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his key card and unlocked the room door, holding it open so that Emma could enter first.

 

She walked into the room and kicked off her heels, but she had very little time to take in her surroundings before Jones came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck.

 

“Gods, Swan,” he growled as he used one hand to move her hair out of his way so that he could latch his mouth onto her neck, “you have no idea how badly I want you.”

 

“Don’t tell me,” she sighed and reached a hand back so that it was resting on his thigh, “show me.”

 

He groaned at that and spun her in his arms so that he could claim her lips with his own once more. Emma felt all of her worries leave her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he walked her further into the room. Her backside bumped into a counter in the kitchen, and, without thinking, she scooted up onto it, letting Jones stand between her open legs.

 

She cupped his face in her hands, reveling in the way his stubble scratched against her palms, driving her mad with need. His hands found their way to the hem of her shirt and he pulled it upward. She lifted her arms to help him get it off of her and in moments, she was sitting before him, her lace-clad breasts heaving under his rapt gaze.

 

Emma reached her hands out to his shoulders and pushed his plaid shirt off. He shrugged out of it as he dropped his head down to her neck, letting his teeth scrape over her collarbone as she threw her head back and ran her fingers through his hair.

 

He kissed over her neck, laving his tongue over her pulse point, which had her writhing beneath him as she reached for the hem of his tee shirt and pulled it up over his head.

 

She bit her lip against a moan when she saw his bare chest, which was solid and covered in hair. She ran her fingers through it and he moaned before leaning in to kiss her again. His hands fell to her hips and he pulled her off of the counter and then turned her around so that her back was pressed against his chest.

 

She moved her hair over one shoulder and his lips immediately found her skin again, kissing and nipping at all he could reach. One of her hands went to the back of his head as his hands found the zipper on the back of her skirt. He deftly opened her skirt and then pushed it down to the floor.

 

Emma stepped out of it and turned around to face him again. When she leaned in to kiss him he indulged her, tracing his hands over her hips before he bent at the knees and picked her up.

 

She giggled as she wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him kiss and likely mark her neck as he walked her over to the queen-sized bed in the hotel room. She laughed when he tossed her onto the bed and he smiled down at her as he crawled up the bed to where she lay, her hair fanned out above her head as she laid back against the pillows.

 

When he reached her he kissed her softly on the lips and she reciprocated, opening her legs so that he could settle between them. He did so, running his hand over her thigh as he ground the bulge in his boxer briefs over her aching center.

 

“Fuck,” she sighed, biting her lower lip as he moved over her, driving her insane with yearning.

 

He chuckled at her desperate tone and moved one of his hands behind her so that he could unhook her bra. It came undone with minimal effort and he licked his lips as he pulled it away from her, his pupils dilating as he looked over her bare chest.

 

Without a word, he kissed her lips tenderly, only lingering for a moment before he kissed his way down to her neck, letting his tongue dip out against the skin there as he made a path down to her breast, kissing the tops of them both, and making her eyes roll back in her head as he latched onto one nipple, teasing the other between his thumb and forefinger.

 

“Oh, Jones,” she panted, rolling her hips into his as he teased her. “Please.”

 

Lifting his head, he look at her, taking in the blush that covered her face, and neck, and chest. He smirked up at her and offered her a wink before moving down so that he could kneel between her legs and press light kisses to the skin of her stomach, chuckling to himself when she started bucking her hips upward.

 

“Patience, Swan,” he muttered under his breath, barely registering her huff of impatience as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs, holding his breath as her bare, glistening sex was exposed to his ravenous gaze.

 

He took a moment to simply observe her, panting and writhing on his bed and he’d barely even touched her yet. He felt his cock twitch as he lowered his mouth to her core, making contact with her heated flesh and causing her to cry out.

 

“Oh yes,” she sighed, raking her fingers through his hair as his tongue rolled over her most sensitive parts, setting her alight with desire as he worked her up. She rolled her hips downward into his face when he found her clit and sucked it into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it as she shot up and over the edge.

 

He brought her down from her peak gently, licking and sucking to help her ride out the waves of her orgasm.

 

Emma barely registered him leaving the bed, and it wasn’t until she heard him rifling through his luggage that she looked up to see him kneeling by one of his suitcases.

 

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asked him, still shaking from her high.

 

He didn’t answer her, only found what he’d been looking for and held it up to her like a trophy as he walked back over to the bed.

 

A condom.

 

“Safety first,” he mockingly admonished her as he pushed down his boxers and rejoined her on the bed.

 

He held himself over her, an arm on either side of her body and kissed her, making her moan when she tasted herself on his tongue. While he was distracted with kissing her, Emma slipped her hand between then and reached for his cock, stroking it slowly to match the pace of their languid kissing.

 

When he groaned in the back of his throat she felt the vibrations of the sound against her lips and she smiled into their kiss when Jones started bucking his hips into her hand.

 

“I think someone’s a little eager,” she joked between kisses, giving him a particularly firm squeeze.

 

“Trust me, love,” he breathed against her neck, “there’s nothing _little_ about me.”

 

Before she had time to offer a retort, he was kneeling between her legs again, this time so that he could open the condom and roll it onto his throbbing length.

 

Once he was ready, he leaned back over her, bracing his weight on one arm so that he could use his other hand to guide himself to her entrance.

 

“You ready?” He asked, brushing the head of his cock over her clit.

 

Emma couldn’t answer verbally – she simply nodded her head and braced herself when she felt the head of his cock pressing into her.

 

He was bigger than Walsh, that was for sure, but she was certain that she could handle all that he had to give her.

 

_(And probably more.)_

 

He only sank about halfway into her, pausing to study her face and make sure she was alright before he continued on, this time stopping when he was hilted inside of her tight heat.

 

“Bloody hell, Swan,” he cursed, burying his face in her neck, “you feel so good.”

 

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he reached for her thigh again, angling it up and over his hip so that he could press into her just a little deeper.

 

“Fuck,” Emma whined when he started moving, gently thrusting in and out of her as his hand held her thigh in place. She ground her hips into his every time he trust home, and Jones buried his face in her neck, biting down on her skin to keep himself from moaning.

 

She angled her hips upward, which had him brushing against _that_ spot inside of her with every thrust.

 

“I’m so close,” she breathed out, her hand closing around a fistful of his hair as he moved his hand from her thigh to the place where they were one, drawing swift and heavy-handed circled into her flesh as she began to flutter around him.

 

“Yes, Swan, that’s it,” he praised her, running his nose over her jaw. “Let me feel you.”

 

“Oh, fuck,” Emma swore through clenched teeth as he sent her over the edge for the second time. She kept moving with him, trying to prolong her pleasure for as long as she could.

 

Jones kissed her below her ear, and if she hadn’t just experienced a mind-blowing orgasm only seconds before, that may have sent her over the edge in and of itself.

 

“Still with me?” He asked her, a cocky smirk on his face.

 

Emma suddenly found her second wind and mustered enough power to roll her eyes at him and push him off of her so that she could straddle him and sink down onto his cock. She bit her lip as he filled her again and he let out a loud groan, clenching his jaw as she swiveled her hips over him.

 

“You alright there?” She teased him as she braced her hands on his thighs and began to move, gliding over his length as his hands came down to her hips, gripping her hard enough to bruise as he guided her movements.

 

He braced his feet on the bed and began to thrust upward into her, making her gasp as she all but fell forward, her hands falling on either side of his head as she let him fuck her from where he lay beneath her.

 

She did her best to continue her movements, but she proved no match for him as he altered their position again, this time sitting up so that she was cradled in his lap as she continued to ride him hard. He wrapped his arms around her waist as his mouth found her breast, latching onto her nipple and scraping his teeth over it.

 

Emma gasped loudly as she raked her fingers through his hair. She gripped it tightly in her fingers and pulled his head back so that she could crush her lips to his as she neared another orgasm.

 

She broke the kiss, panting as she pressed her lips to his neck and whined, “I’m gonna come again.”

 

She felt the vibrations of his moan reverberate against her lips as he acknowledged her statement, snaking his hand between them to help her out again. When she came this time, her nails scratched over the backs of his shoulders and he groaned at the slight pain, although he didn’t mind it.

 

Her walls clamped down on him and triggered his own release, causing him to bite down on the flesh of her chest as he spilled himself into the condom with a stunted yell.

 

For the next few moments they sat totally still, panting and holding each other as they tried to catch their breath.

 

“That was…” he trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe the bliss he’d just experienced.

 

“I know,” she tried to state her agreement, but her voice was shaky and strained.

 

When Jones finally relaxed and fell back onto the bed, she fell with him, resting her head against his chest.

 

It wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around her that she realized what she was doing and sat up, rolling off of him. Jones walked off to the bathroom and disposed of the condom before coming back to the bed and lying down again.

 

“Uh, I should go,” she muttered to him as she swung her sore legs over the edge of the bed and made to leave. She was about to stand from the bed when she felt his hand on hers.

 

“You don’t have to run off, you know. I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay.”

 

Emma felt a chill roll down her spine at his invitation, but she shook her head. “Can’t. I have work in the morning.” That excuse sounded lame even in her own ears, but she couldn’t stay with him. Even though she wanted to.

 

“Come on, Swan. What harm would it do?”

 

For the life of her she couldn’t think of another excuse and she was tired of fighting, so she let him tug her back to the middle of the bed and tuck her body against his under the covers.

 

She rested her head against his chest as he lay on his back, letting out a yawn so loud that it made her smile, her cheek rubbing against his chest hair.

 

“I won’t take it personally when I wake up to find you gone.” His arm wrapped around her and he rested his hand on her hip, his fingers rubbing light, lazy patterns into the soft flesh. “But, for what it’s worth, I had one hell of a time with you tonight.”

 

She sighed and draped her arm over his torso before she replied, “I did, too.”

 

-/-

 

Emma’s eyes opened slowly as she rolled over in Jones’s hotel room bed, stretching sluggishly as she sat up on the edge. She still couldn’t believe that she’d spent the night with him, but she couldn’t at all say that she regretted it – especially not after she woke him with a blowjob around two in the morning and they had another go.

 

With a satisfied smile on her lips, she gingerly eased herself off the bed and gathered her clothes, making sure to keep quiet so that she wouldn’t wake Jones as she tiptoed across the room. Once she’d put on her panties, bra, and skirt, she padded over to the bathroom and closed the door quietly, deciding to check on the state of her hair.

 

She cringed at the sight of it, wild and untamed – _damn, she needed a hairbrush._ She decided that her fingers were better than nothing and reigned in her tresses as best she could before grabbing a bar of soap to wash her face. Once she finished, she gave herself one final look in the mirror before going to put on her shirt and leave.

 

After she was finally ready, she spared one final look at Jones – he was asleep on his back and the sheet had redden down to his pelvis, exposing his glorious chest and abs to her view. She gave a final sigh before she opened the door and left the room, ready to go on with the rest of her life.

 

-/-

 

Emma had just finished showering when her cell phone started to ring out in her bedroom. She wrapped a towel around herself and scurried out to answer it. Picking it up, she saw that Walsh was calling her.

 

“Hello?” She answered as she sat down on her bed, tilting her head to one side to keep her wet hair off of her phone.

 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Walsh replied to her and she smiled upon hearing his voice, something that hadn’t happened for a long time. “How are you?”

 

“I’m good.”

 

“Oh, you’re _good_ today? I was expecting to hear ‘fine’ or ‘okay.’”

 

Emma chuckled at his teasing and rolled her eyes. “You should be happy that your fiancée is in a good mood for once.”

 

He laughed with her for a few moments before answering, “Trust me, sweetheart, I am. Anyway, I’m calling to tell you that I’ve made reservations for you, me, and the Mad Dog for dinner tonight. I’ll text you the address later.”

 

“Okay,” Emma smiled when she remember that she was finally going to meet Walsh’s best friend. She was excited to maybe find out something more about her fiancé and get to know him through someone else’s stories and memories. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

 

“You sure will. I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” she replied and hung up the phone so that she could do her hair and get dressed for work.

 

Her workday had been trying and as mundane as usual, but she was happy when five o’clock rolled around and she was finally free to go home. She and Elsa shared a cab, and, after saying a hasty goodbye to her friend, Emma rushed to get ready to go to dinner with Walsh.

 

After she’d fashioned her hair into a sleek, high ponytail and put on one of her favorite black dresses, Emma grabbed her coat and checked the time on her watch, which read 6:49. She left her apartment and, after hailing a cab with minimal effort (which was surprising for a Friday evening), she gave the address Walsh had given her to the cabbie, who got her to her destination around 7:15.

 

She paid the cab driver and stepped out onto the curb, pulling her phone out of her purse and quickly dialing Walsh’s number. He answered after a few moments and greeted her cheerily.

 

“Hey, I’m outside, are you guys here yet?”

 

“Yeah,” he answered her, and a minute later he was at the entrance, waving her over.

 

Emma hung up her phone and walked over to him, giving him a hug and a kiss in greeting.

 

“Hey, how was work today?” He asked her, taking her coat and draping it over his arm.

 

“It was alright,” she answered him, looking around the room to see if she could spot his best man. “So, where is he?” She asked, an eager smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

 

“He’s at the table,” Walsh started, but stopped for a moment, wringing his hands. “I feel like I should warn you about him, though: he’s a total jackass. He makes inappropriate jokes and he spouts innuendo like it’s nobody’s business.”

 

Emma nodded as she listened to Walsh speak, trying to keep her mind from wandering to a certain Brit she’d met the night before who fit that description to the letter. “I’m a big girl, Walsh. I can handle myself.” She leaned in and gave him a reassuring kiss on the cheek before taking his hand and letting him lead her into the dining room.

 

She saw only one table that had a single person seated at it, and assumed that that was where they were going to be sitting. The man seated at the table appeared to be looking at his phone, as his head was bowed toward his lap.

 

“Is that him?” She asked, leaning toward Walsh.

 

“It sure is,” he confirmed, letting go of her hand to put his arm around her waist.

 

“Hey, man,” Walsh called to his friend and the man lifted his head, making Emma’s heart drop into her stomach.

 

She recognized him immediately: the same blue eyes, the same rugged stubble and pouty lips. It was _him._

“Emma Swan, I would like you to meet my best man,” Walsh held her tightly to his side as he kissed her on the temple and then gestured with his hand toward the man sitting at the table. “This is Killian Jones.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“This is Killian Jones.”

 

The words hit her like a heavy punch to the gut and she struggled to maintain her composure as Walsh walked her around the table to the dark-haired man that she’d become very well acquainted with the night before.

 

She felt like she should have seen this coming, but really, there was no way for her to have known that this man was going to turn out to be her fiancé’s best friend. She’d only ever heard Walsh refer to him as “the Mad Dog,” and even though she’d heard the name Killian thrown about once or twice, there was never a last name attached to it.

 

Killian’s face was a light shade of red when he extended his hand to hers and waited for her to shake it. “It’s, uh, it’s nice to meet you, Emma.”

 

She came back to reality and shook his hand quickly, not wanting to linger too long. Emma let go of his hand and then walked back to the other side of the table, taking a seat next to Walsh and immediately opening her menu.

 

Anything to keep from looking at the man sitting across the table from her.

 

“So, Mad Dog,” Walsh started jovially as he took the seat beside Emma’s, “how was your flight in? How did you spend your first night back?”

 

Killian, who had been taking a sip from his glass of water, sputtered and coughed slightly before shaking his head. “It was alright, thanks. Didn’t do much of anything.”

 

Walsh’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his friend; Emma turned her head to look at her fiancé, and she could tell that the gears in his head were spinning. “You had sex last night, didn’t you?”

 

Killian clenched his eyes shut at the accusation and gritted his teeth.

 

“Walsh, that’s a pretty personal topic, I don’t think Killian would want to discuss that over dinner.” Emma tried to step in, but Walsh was barely hearing her, leaning across the table on his elbows.

 

“What was she like? Where did it happen? Was it any good? Come on, I’m your best friend! You gotta tell me _something_!” Walsh pressed eagerly, a broad smile on his face.

 

Emma put her hand on his shoulder and guided him back down into his seat. “Walsh, maybe he’d rather tell you about it when I’m not around.” She tried, hoping that her voice didn’t sound as nervous as she felt.

 

Walsh relented, sitting back in his chair and shaking his head at Killian. “You are going to be giving me all the details later, my friend.” He then turned to Emma and offered her an apologetic smile and shrug. “Sorry, being around him always makes me feel like we’re in college again. You should have _seen_ this guy, Em.”

 

Killian leaned back in his chair and gave a heavy sigh as if he already knew what Walsh was about to say.

 

“He had the ladies falling _all over_ him. It was ridiculous. The girls would really just throw themselves at him. I struggle to recall a weekend when he _didn’t_ have a date.”

 

Emma cocked an eyebrow upward and turned to look at Killian, whose eyes were trained on the glass of water in front of him. “Is that so?” She asked, trying not to sound too flustered.

 

“Oh, yes. It is.” Walsh commented with a chuckle. “Some of them were kind of nice. Like Kathryn, she was a sweetheart. Oh, and Ashley, well, she was a little naïve.”

 

Killian leaned forward in his chair and looked at Walsh without a trace of amusement on his face. “Yes, I remember. I was the one dating them, after all.”

 

Walsh continued on as if he hadn’t heard Killian speak. “Half the time I went out to go to the library or grab a bite to eat, I’d come back to the dorm to find a sock on the door. Some – who am I kidding? – most of these girls were bimbos. Honestly.”

 

Emma felt her cheeks heat up at what Walsh had just said.

 

_Bimbos_.

 

She was one of them now. After all, it was her idea to go up to Killian’s room. A shiver of disgust rolled down her spine and she changed the subject, hoping to change Walsh’s train of thought. “So, you two were roommates?”

 

Her voice was shaky as she said it, and she cursed herself for being so affected by what she’d heard. She could feel Killian’s eyes boring into her, but she refused to look up at him.

 

“We sure were,” Walsh answered, a wide grin on his face. “All four years. We were assigned to each other, but, I gotta say, I don’t think I could have found a better roommate if I’d picked one myself.”

 

Killian smiled at that and adjusted his napkin in his lap. “Oh, come on now, you flatter me.”

 

Walsh rolled his eyes at Killian and turned back to Emma. “We met as roommates but we didn’t really become friends until we found out that we were both going to be trying out for the track team.”

 

Killian stepped in then, deciding to take part in the storytelling. “And we both made it in, eventually getting assigned to the same relay squad.”

 

Walsh’s smile grew and he nodded at Killian’s input. “That’s right, and we’ve been best friends ever since.”

 

Emma’s heart broke when she saw the way that Walsh looked at his friend. There was so much love and admiration there that she knew that if he ever found out what happened between her and Killian, it would kill him.

 

“Oh!” Walsh started as if he’d forgotten something. “He got his nickname because of our coach—”

 

“Albert Spencer.” Killian added with a nod as he mused aloud.

 

“Right, Coach Spencer.” Walsh affirmed. “One practice, it was pouring down rain, and afterward, he came to talk to us in the locker room. Back then, Killian had a _killer_ head of hair, he even wore it in a ponytail. It was righteous.”

 

Killian rolled his eyes at that added detail and Emma could almost feel a smile form on her lips. “I’d rather we not discuss it, mate. The mullet is never a good look on anyone. Not even me.”

 

Emma laughed softly at that, and he shot her a withering glare. “Shocking, I know.” He teased, and for a brief moment, Emma forgot Walsh was even there.

 

“Anyway,” Walsh went on, “after we’d come in from practicing in the rain, instead of looking for a towel to dry his hair, this idiot just stands in the middle on the locker room and starts shaking his head.”

 

“Like a dog,” Emma guessed, watching as Walsh reenacted the moment.

 

“Exactly,” he chuckled, “so Coach Spencer walked in while Killian was doing that and he said—”

 

“Jones! Grab a towel, you look like a mad dog!” Killian put on a stern, gruff voice and creased his brow as he imitated the man.

 

Both men started laughing loudly and Emma actually smiled at that. For a moment she forgot all about the previous night and took a moment to get to know the man she’d come to know as her fiancé’s best man.

 

Walsh wiped at his eyes and sighed contentedly. “And ever since then, the whole team called him Mad Dog. It stuck.”

 

“Yes, much to my delight,” Killian added sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

 

“Hey, man,” Walsh started, stifling giggles, “remember the time we—”

 

“Good evening,” Walsh’s anecdote was cut off by the waiter, who appeared at the bale with a bottle of wine that Emma assumed must have been ordered before she got there. He poured out a measure of the drink for each of them before taking their orders and leaving the bottle on the table.

 

“You were saying, Walsh?” Killian asked, taking a sip of his wine and setting the glass gently down on the table.

 

“Remember the time we went on that double date? I went with Sarah and I convinced you to come along. Why was that?”

 

Killian’s jaw clenched and he closed his fist around his napkin, avoiding Walsh’s eyes. “Because Sarah was bringing a friend.”

 

“Oh, that’s right,” Walsh suddenly remembered and his face wet slightly pink. “Sorry, man, I really did forget.”

 

Emma looked back and forth between the two for a moment, waiting for one of them to fill her in. When that didn’t happen, she decided to speak up. “Okay, so what did I miss?”

 

Walsh shook his head at her query, dismissing the subject with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, it’s not important—“

 

“No, you brought it up, it would be rude to leave your fiancée in the dark.” Killian sighed with a raise of his brow and shrugged, indicating to Walsh that he didn’t mind.

 

“Well,” Walsh started turning from Killian to Emma, “Killian dated Sarah’s friend Milah for a long time. All of college, actually. They broke up right after graduation.”

 

“Ouch,” Emma commented, unsure of what else she could have said. _Maybe that’s the reason why he’s only into one-night stands…_

“It’s no big deal, really,” Killian spoke up, giving a minimal shake of his head. “That sort of thing happens all the time, right?”

 

“I guess it does,” Walsh agreed taking a sip from his wine. “I see her around sometimes, you know. She asks me about you, but I know better than to tell her anything.”

 

“Thanks for that,” Killian replied sarcastically with a raise of both eyebrows as he gave a heavy sigh.

 

“Don’t be like that, buddy,” Walsh apologized with an honest smile.

 

“No worries,” Killian sighed and sat up in his chair, fixing his napkin in his lap. “It’s fine.”

 

Walsh smiled at that before pushing away from the table. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna head to the restroom.”

 

Both Emma and Killian nodded in understanding as Walsh got up and left the table. Once they were alone, Emma reluctantly turned her head to look at the man seated across from her, who was eying her just as intently.

 

“So, _Killian_ …”

 

He cleared his throat awkwardly and flexed his shoulders, “Emma.”

 

“Okay,” she sighed, scooting forward in her seat and lowering her voice, “what are we supposed to do now?”

 

“How should I know?” He asked her hastily, as if he were offended by the question.

 

She bit her lip nervously as she knitted her brow. “We obviously need to talk about this.”

 

“You think?” He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

 

“You are getting on my last nerve. I swear if we weren’t in public right now, I would jump across this table and—“

 

“Hey, everything alright over here?” Walsh asked lightheartedly as he sat back down in his seat, fanning his napkin out over his lap.

 

“Uh, sure,” Emma answered uneasily, sitting back in her seat as she eyed Killian nervously.

 

“Everything’s just fine,” Killian agreed, and Walsh looked back and forth between them for a moment before shrugging his own shoulders in resignation.

 

“You know what?” Emma started, turning in her seat so that she could look at Walsh. “I’m actually starting to feel a little off. I think I’m gonna go to the restroom.”

 

Just as she was about to stand from the table, Emma felt Walsh’s hand cover hers. She turned back to see him looking at her with sympathy in his eyes. “Emma, honey, if you don’t feel well, why don’t you just go home?”

 

Emma cocked her head at him, “Are you sure? You’d be okay with that?”

 

Walsh smiled and nodded at her, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead. “Of course I would be. Go home and see if you feel any better in the morning. If you do, we can grab lunch or something.”

 

“Okay,” Emma sighed as she rose from the table and both men stood with her. “I’ll see you later, then.” She resolved as she leaned in and gave Walsh a quick peck on the lips. She put on her coat and grabbed her purse before turning back to Killian, offering him a slight nod of her head. “It was nice to meet you.”

 

He nodded in reply as she left and once she was out of sight Walsh turned back to him, a silly grin on his face. Killian sat back down in his seat, and Walsh moved into the empty seat across from him, which had been occupied by Emma.

 

“So?” Walsh asked, fingers drumming incessantly on the table top.

 

Killian raised an eyebrow at his friend, waiting for him to elaborate. “So what?”

 

“What did you think of her?” Walsh asked impatiently. “She’s great, isn’t she?”

 

“Ah,” Killian tried to buy himself some time as he thought of a careful way to answer the question. “She was, uh…”

 

“What is it?” Walsh’s face was somewhat concerned as his eyes searched Killian’s. “You don’t hate her, do you?”

 

“No, it’s not that,” Killian almost laughed at the question, scratching anxiously at the back of his ear. “Trust me, mate.”

 

“Then what is it?” Walsh pried, now sitting on the edge of his chair.

 

Killian laughed breezily, hoping that his tone would help to put his friend at ease. “Really, the only thing I’m wondering,” he started, shooting Walsh a wry smirk, “is how a prat like you managed to land a woman like _that_.”

 

Walsh laughed then, sitting back in his chair and toying idly with the glass in front of him. “It’s not your typical romance,” he started, only stopping to stifle a quick chuckle.

 

“What’s gotten into you? You’re giggling like a bloody schoolgirl, Walsh.”

 

The other man shrugged helplessly, smile still firm on his face. “I can’t help it, man. This is what she does to me.”

 

Killian felt his stomach twist uncomfortably as he listened to Walsh prattle on about Emma. Not only was she his fiancée, but she appeared to be the greatest love of his life and he couldn’t help but feel like the scum of the earth for having interfered with that love.

 

He was drawn out of his thoughts by Walsh calling his name.

 

“Killian? Are you listening? I’m telling you how Emma and I met.”

 

Killian blinked his eyes for a moment before nodding. “Yes, go on.”

 

Walsh rolled his eyes, clearly not fooled. “I’ll just start over. We met about a year and a half ago. I got a call from some woman who was looking for legal representation.”

 

“And that woman was Emma?” Killian guessed, filling in the blank for himself.

 

Walsh nodded as he took a sip from his glass of wine. “Yes, she was. Her foster brother – Robin Locksley, a real nice guy if you ask me, but anyway, he was going through a tough divorce and he had an upcoming court date, but needed a lawyer. That ex-wife of his refused to settle on anything in mediation, and then there was also the custody issue for their kid, so I met up with Emma and her brother and agreed to work for them—”

 

“If she’d go on a date with you?” Killian interjected, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

 

“No!” Walsh protested, removing his napkin from his lap and throwing it across the table at Killian. “Is that the kind of guy you think I am?”

 

Killian snorted out a quick laugh and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you know what they say about lawyers.”

 

“Oh, ha, ha. Very funny.” Walsh rolled his eyes and went on with his story. “So I helped her brother out, and I guess over the time that I was working for them, she grew feelings for me and then she asked me out after I got them off the hook.”

 

“Wait,” Killian leaned forward on his chair, “ _she_ asked _you_ out? Is this the bloody Twilight Zone or something?”

 

Walsh laughed at that and shook his head. “Gosh, you really know how to boost a guy’s confidence. But really, Killian, did you like her?”

 

Once again, Killian tried to think of an appropriate answer. If they were just meeting that night for the first time, he would probably tell Walsh that she was wonderful. But, there was the issue of their little secret preying on his mind. Either way, he decided to go with the truth.

 

“I just can’t believe she agreed to marry _you_.”

 

-/-

 

Emma paced back and forth in the hallway outside of Walsh’s apartment. She felt like she needed to explain her odd behavior during their dinner with Killian last night, and if she was going to do it, it needed to happen _now_.

 

After she left the restaurant, she went home and spent the entire night trying to relax enough to go to sleep. Her mind kept going back and forth between the same few points before she decided that she wasn’t going to relax until she was able to explain herself to Walsh.

 

Taking a deep breath, she walked up to Walsh’s door and knocked on it a few times, awkwardly shuffling on her feet as she waited for him to come to the door.

 

“Just a second!” A male voice called to her from the inside, but it wasn’t Walsh. It sounded like—

 

“Oh, hello, Swan,” Killian greeted her with a slight nod of his head, leaning up against the doorframe. “What brings you by?”

 

She almost hadn’t heard what he’d said to her, as she was distracted by his wet hair and disheveled appearance. “Wh-why are you…? Why do you…? Where’s…?”

 

Killian furrowed his brows at her flustered state and opened the door a bit wider, still not moving aside to let her in. “Walsh is having a shower. He and I went for a run this morning, much like old times. We just got back, actually.” He recounted somewhat uncomfortably as he crossed his arms over his chest.

 

She had to fight with every fiber of her being to keep from starting as his biceps as they flexed just beneath the short sleeves of his tee shirt. “Okay, well, I guess it’s fine that I run into you first. I need to tell you that Walsh can’t find out about us.”

 

Killian’s face morphed into a mask of confusion as he looked at Emma. “Do you want to come in?” He stepped aside and let her brush past him, ignoring the sway of her hips as she walked into Walsh’s apartment.

 

“I’m serious,” Emma groaned with a sigh, “I don’t want him to know.”

 

Killian placed his hands on his hips as he tried to think about their options. “Emma, we have to tell him. He’s my best friend – and had I known who you were—”

 

“Oh, what, you wouldn’t have bought me drinks and flirted with me? Wouldn’t have taken me up to your room? You wouldn’t have—”

 

“Keep your voice down,” he growled at her, crossing the room to stand in front of her. “Of _course_ I wouldn’t have! If I’d have known that you were engaged to my best mate I wouldn’t have done any of that.”

 

Emma rubbed at her face exasperatedly. “So, you were fine with me cheating on my fiancé with you, but now that it turns out you and my fiancé have history, it’s some huge moral issue? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? If I were engaged to anyone else on Earth, you wouldn’t care!”

 

He ran a hand through his damp hair and looked at her sternly. “That may be true, but I can’t keep this from Walsh. He has a right to know.”

 

Emma walked up to Killian and pointed a finger into the middle of his chest. “You will keep your mouth shut about this for now. We can’t talk here anyway.”

 

She brushed past him to walk toward Walsh’s bedroom, but Killian grabbed her arm before she could leave the living room. “You haven’t won, Swan.”

 

Emma shook her arm out of his grasp and walked toward Walsh’s bedroom. She knocked lightly on the door and waited for him to call her in before she poked her head into the room. She found him standing by his chest of drawers, pulling on a pair of jeans.

 

“Hey,” she greeted him as she walked across the room, sitting down on his bed and watching him dress. “I thought that maybe I should explain why I left so early last night.”

 

Walsh finished putting on a long-sleeved shirt and looked at her, confusion marring his brow. “What do you mean? You weren’t feeling well. I can understand that.”

 

Emma smiled at Walsh’s compassion, but she also felt guilty for having lied to him the night before. “Not exactly. I don’t really know how to explain it, but I haven’t really been feeling like myself lately, and I guess that’s why I was just a little bit uncomfortable last night. But, I’m here now and I’m ready to go to lunch.”

 

Walsh sat down on the bed next to her and took her hand. “Well, thank you for telling me. Just let me finish getting ready and then we can go.”

 

“Is Killian gonna be going back to his hotel room?” She hadn’t meant to blurt the question out, but she’d spoken it before she could catch herself.

 

“Uh, no,” Walsh laughed awkwardly, “he’s coming with us.”

 

Emma’s stomach sank when she heard those words and she groaned inwardly. “Great. Sounds fun.”

 

“Yeah,” Walsh called to her as he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, “I figured this could be sort of like a ‘take two’ of dinner last night.”

 

“Of course.” Emma replied as she let herself out of his room. She walked past the living room, ignoring Killian’s questioning stare as she left Walsh’s apartment. Once she was on the other side of the door, she pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and quickly dialed Elsa’s number.

 

Elsa picked up after only a few moments and Emma breathed out a sigh of relief. “Hello?”

 

“Hi, Elsa,” Emma sighed, “I need you.”

 

“What’s the matter?” Elsa’s voice sounded worried.

 

“Nothing, well, I guess something?” Emma groaned, flustered and unable to explain herself properly. “Listen. We’re about to go to lunch, and I need you to come with us.”

 

“Fine, where are we going?”

 

“Just meet me at Walsh’s.” Emma asked before hanging up the phone.

 

When she went back into the apartment, she found Walsh and Killian seated together in the living room. She set her purse down on the counter and walked over to the fridge, helping herself to a bottle of water.

 

“I hope you don’t mind,” she started after taking a long drink and setting her bottle down, “I’ve invited Elsa to come with us. She should be here soon.”

 

Walsh nodded and turned to Killian, “Elsa is Emma’s best friend. I guess it’d be cool for you guys to meet. You know, you being the best man, and her being the maid of honor.”

 

Killian nodded in understanding, but didn’t make a comment.

 

Emma was glad for that.

 

After only around fifteen minutes of waiting, there was a knock on Walsh’s door. Emma excused herself from the room to go answer it, and when she returned, Elsa was following closely behind her.

 

“Elsa! It’s great to see you,” Walsh greeted her as he got up from the couch and crossed the room to place a light kiss on her cheek.

 

Elsa smiled and hugged Walsh in greeting before turning her head to look at Killian. “And you must be the Mad Dog,” she extended her hand to him and he stood from his chair, shaking it gently.

 

“Aye, but I mostly go by Killian.” He smiled warmly at her and she chuckled at his response as he bent at the waist and brushed a light kiss over her knuckles.

 

“Right. Got it.” Elsa’s cheeks flushed as she looked to Emma, an incredulous look on her face.

 

“Okay,” Emma cut in then, “are we ready to go?”

 

Killian dropped Elsa’s hand with a wink and followed Emma out of the apartment and into the hallway. The three of them waited there for Walsh, who was delayed in his search for his coat. Once he grabbed it, he locked the door and followed the rest of the group out.

 

They left Walsh’s building and walked down the street, Walsh and Killian leading the way as Emma and Elsa followed behind.

 

“So, what’s this guy’s deal?” Elsa asked as she adjusted the collar on her coat, rubbing her hands together against the cold.

 

“What do you mean?” Emma replied, tucked her bangs behind her ear and crossing her arms under her chest.

 

“Do you hate him or something?” Elsa turned her head to look at Emma, eyebrow raised as she waited for an answer.

 

“No, I don’t, why would you ask that?”

 

“Well,” Elsa started, her lips curling upward into a smile, “when he kissed my hand you got a little… _tense_ , let’s say.”

 

Emma bristled at that and shook her head. “I don’t think so, Elsa.”

 

“You _do_ hate him! Oh my god you just met the guy yesterday! What could he possibly have done already?”

 

Emma was about to answer when Walsh turned around, walking backwards as he looked at them, “Everything alright back there?”

 

Both women nodded and he turned around again, resuming his conversation with Killian as Emma turned back to Elsa. “I don’t hate him, and I know we just met, but it’s kind of a long story.”

 

Elsa gave a disbelieving snort followed by a quick laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

 

The group approached the restaurant within the next few minutes and they were shown to a table shortly after being greeted at the entrance. When they got to the table, Elsa and Emma sat on one side while Walsh and Killian sat on the other.

 

When the waitress finally came around to take their orders, they all ordered their drinks and the young girl ran off to fetch what they’d asked for.

 

“So,” Elsa broke the silence as she leaned her elbows on the table to look at Killian, who was seated across from her, “tell me about yourself, Killian.”

 

He flashed her a cheeky grin and shrugged his shoulders. “What do you want to know?”

 

“Anything,” Elsa answered honestly.

 

“Well,” he started, taking a moment to think of what to say, “I have an older brother named Liam, I went to college with Walsh, I am an Aquarius, and I earn my money by taking pictures.”

 

“Oh,” Elsa cooed, her voice laced with intrigue, “you’re a photographer! How interesting! Tell me something about that.”

 

“Well, it’s a pretty demanding job, contrary to popular belief. It requires a lot of traveling, but I can’t complain. It pays the bills and keeps food on the table, so I’m happy with it.”

 

“It sounds like a great time,” she sighed, her tone giddy and light.

 

Killian leaned forward across the table, resting his weight on his elbows. “Trust me, love, it is. Maybe I could show you some of my photographs some time.”

 

“I would _love_ that!” Elsa giggled, resting her head on her hand as she looked at Killian, batting her eyelashes.

 

“Um, Elsa,” Emma interrupted, her tone curt and annoyed. “Could you come with me to the bathroom?”

 

“What? Uh, sure,” Elsa muttered as she rose from the table and followed the direction Emma had gone.

 

Once they were in the restroom, Emma rounded on Elsa, her arms crossed over her chest. “What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like that?”

 

“Like what?” Elsa asked, fiddling idly with the end of her French braid.

 

“All giddy and flirtatious. That’s not like you, Elsa.”

 

“Well, maybe I want to get to know Killian,” Elsa offered, checking her make up in the mirror. “Unless you know of some reason why I shouldn’t?”

 

Emma sighed and shook her head. “I guess I don’t…”

 

“Emma, something happened between you two, didn’t it?”

 

Emma gave a frustrated groan and rubbed her face tiredly. “How did you know?”

 

“I could tell by the way you reacted to my totally fake flirting! I’m not interested in him at all, I was just waiting for your reaction! So tell me: what happened?”

 

“Really? What would you have done if I didn’t care?”

 

Elsa shrugged, leaning against the bathroom counter. “I don’t know. I guess I would have found some other way to get you to crack.”

 

“Right,” Emma sighed, checking her appearance in the mirror once more before making to exit the bathroom. She’d only just touched her hand to the door before she felt Elsa’s hand on her wrist.

 

“Emma, we’re not leaving this bathroom until you tell me what happened.”

 

With a sigh Emma let go of the door and clenched her eyes shut. “Killian and I… we slept together.”

 

Elsa’s jaw dropped when she heard what Emma had to say. She then clapped a hand over her mouth and took a few moments to consider what she wanted to ask next. “When? Before you met Walsh?”

 

Emma shook her head and covered her face with her hands. “No, on Thursday night.”

 

“Wait, _what_? Thursday night? Emma, you—”

 

“Yes,” Emma sighed loudly, “I cheated on Walsh, with his best friend.”

 

Elsa’s eyes were wide as saucers as she stared blankly into the space between her and Emma. “I don’t even know what to say.”

 

“No kidding,” Emma commented, a sarcastic laugh falling from her lips.

 

“When are you going to tell him?” Elsa asked, and honest expression on her face.

 

“I’m not. I can’t. I mean, you saw him with Killian. He loves him. I could never ruin their friendship like that.”

 

“So he’ll never find out?”

 

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Emma felt a pang of discomfort sliver in the pit of her stomach as she spoke the words.

 

“And what about Killian? Is he okay with this plan?”

 

Emma bit her lip nervously. “I haven’t talked to him yet, but I told him that I don’t want Walsh to know. I guess I can stop by his hotel room later and we can talk about it further.”

 

“Okay,” Elsa eyed her suspiciously, “and only _talk_ , right?”

 

“Yes, only talk.” Emma rolled her eyes as she made to leave the bathroom once again. “Come on, they must be wondering why we’re taking so long.”

 

The women filed out of the restroom and rejoined the men at the table, finding them already halfway through their drinks, which had been delivered shortly after the girls had left the table.

 

“Ah, there you are, Swan,” Killian joked as he picked up his bottle of beer, taking a long sip. “We were beginning to think that you’d gotten lost.”

 

“Yeah, very funny,” Emma scoffed as she sat down at the table and Elsa sat beside her.

 

“You know,” Killian started, turning to look at Emma as he spoke, “after you left last night Walsh told me how the two of you met -- when he was working on your brother’s case. And I—”

 

“He’s my foster brother,” Emma corrected him, and immediately regretted doing so when he looked at her with confusion on his face.

 

“My apologies,” he mumbled with a quick nod of his head.

 

“It’s fine,” she insisted, hoping he wasn’t going to press the topic any further. “You were saying?”

 

“Right, uh,” he took a moment to collect his thoughts before starting over. “He told me how the two of you met while he was working on your foster brother’s case, and I was amazed to find that _you_ were the one pursuing _him_.”

 

“Why should that amaze you?” Emma asked as she reached out and put her hand over Walsh’s. “He’s kind, he’s caring, and he’s a good person. What else should I have been looking for?”

 

Killian rolled his eyes at the PDA and turned his attention back to Elsa. “I can’t imagine why anyone would ever want to get married. Especially to _him_.”

 

Elsa laughed at Killian’s good-natured joke. “So I guess there are no wedding bells in your future, then?”

 

Killian shook his head as he leaned back in his chair. “I daresay it would take life-changing experience to get me to agree to that.”

 

“Or maybe just a life-changing woman?” Elsa offered, and Killian shrugged his shoulders before shifting his gaze down to his hands.

 

“I’m afraid, as far as I’m concerned, that women like that are few and far between.”

 

Elsa nodded in understanding and took a slow sip from her drink. “Sure, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen for you.”

 

Killian looked up at her, and before he could help it, his eyes shifted over to Emma, who was having her own conversation with Walsh. “Well,” he cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair, “if a woman like that ever comes into my life, I’ll be sure not to let her go.”

 

Elsa smiled at that, seemingly pleased with his answer, and gave a small nod, deciding to drop the subject.

 

The rest of their outing passed with amicable conversation as Walsh prodded Killian to regale the girls with tales from their time in college and Emma and Elsa shared stories of their own with Killian, even managing to tell one or two that Walsh hadn’t heard before.

 

When the time came for them to finally gather their things and leave, the group donned their coats and left the restaurant. Once they were outside, Elsa and Walsh started the walk back but Emma grabbed Killian by the arm, not letting him go.

 

Killian looked down to where her hand was gripping him tightly and then back up at her face, raising an eyebrow in question. “There something you need, love?”

 

“We need to talk, Killian.”

 

He rolled his eyes and shook his arm out of her grip. “Well, we can’t very well do it in the middle of the bloody sidewalk. Just come to my room later. I trust you still remember where it is.”

 

Emma made a disgusted sound at that and an equally bothered face to match. As Killian turned to walk away from her, she called out to him again.

 

“And just so you know,” she paused when he looked at her, almost as if she’d forgotten what she was going to say, “Elsa doesn’t like you. She was only trying to be nice to you.”

 

He scrunched up his face at that, and she decided to clarify.

 

“Just thought I’d let you know, so that you could stop flirting and save yourself the embarrassment.”

 

Killian thought over her words for a moment or two before he threw his head back, laughter rumbling forth from his chest. “You thought _that_ was flirting? My, Swan, you of all people should know how to recognize my flirting.”

 

Emma folded her arms across her chest and mumbled something unintelligible under her breath. “Yeah, whatever,” she sighed, pushing past him so that she could catch up with the rest of the group. She took a few steps away from him before she stopped and turned around. “Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off of you for a second.”

 

Killian gave her a sarcastic smile and walked up to where she stood until they were standing toe-to-toe. “I would despair if you did.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes at that as she turned around, not even bothering to look at him as she sighed, “Let’s go.”

 

-/-

 

Emma knocked impatiently on the door to Killian’s hotel room.

                                

She didn’t know what exactly she was going to say to him, but she knew that they needed to talk before this situation got even more out of hand.

 

She was still banging on the door when Killian opened it and she nearly punched him in the chest before she realized that the door had been opened.

 

“Swan,” he regarded her with a nod of his head folding his arms across his chest as he looked down at her. “Can I help you?”

 

Emma steeled her features and held her head high, pushing past him and into his room without invitation. “I’m here to talk, Killian.”

 

He sighed and closed the door, walking over to where she stood with his hands in his pockets. “Could you clarify?”

 

“You’re being an ass,” Emma sighed, running a hand through her hair. “If you’re going to act like this, I’ll just leave.”

 

“Fine. Go,” he shrugged, letting her walked past him, “and I’ll tell Walsh all about our little adventure the other night.”

 

Emma froze with her hand on the doorknob, inwardly cursing him for everything that was happening right now. She turned around to face him, taking her purse off of her shoulder and throwing it onto a nearby table. “What do you want from me?”

 

Killian chuckled at that and moved to sit down in the nearest chair, leaning back in it and relaxing into it with a sigh. “What I want,” he started, putting his hands behind his head and lacing his fingers together, “is for you to stop acting like you’re any better than I am. We both made this mistake, Emma. I won’t let you pin it all on me.”

 

She laughed sardonically and walked over to where he sat, standing a few feet away from him. “I’m sorry, who was the one buying the drinks? Who kissed who first?”

 

He shrugged and raised an eyebrow at that and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “I suppose I could take the blame for that, but it wasn’t _my_ idea to ‘move the party upstairs.’ That was all you, love.”

 

Emma sighed loudly and clenched her eyes shut: he had her on that one. “Fine, whatever.”

 

“Listen, Swan,” Killian sighed, even though he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, “we can’t go on like this. Walsh is going to get curious.”

 

“You think I don’t know that?” Emma snapped, her voice pitching as she shook her head at him. “I don’t _want_ this. Any of it. I don’t want him to find out. I don’t want to ruin your friendship, and I don’t want to be the one to break his heart. What happened between us was a mistake. A one-time thing.”

 

Killian felt his stomach twist uncomfortably at her words. He shouldn’t have been surprised by what she’d said, because she was right. They couldn’t have anything together, and frankly, he didn’t want to be with her. But why did her words make him feel as though he’d just been slapped in the face?

 

“You’re right.” He agreed, standing from his chair and walking over to where she stood. “So, in order to keep Walsh’s suspicion at bay, we have to play nice, Emma.”

 

She sighed and rolled her eyes at his tone, but nodded in agreement. “I know.”

 

“We have to be friendly when he’s around. As far as he’s concerned, we’ve only just met, so we have to keep up that charade. At least when he’s around. When he’s gone, you can hate me as openly as you like.”

 

“I don’t hate you,” she mumbled under her breath, ignoring the way he cocked his head to the side as one corner of his mouth tugged upward.

 

“What was that, Swan?” He asked, leaning in closer as if to hear her better.

 

“I don’t hate you, okay?” She repeated, louder, but with no less irritation. “It’s just this situation that makes me feel like I want to kill you.”

 

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans once more. “That’s good to know, I guess.”

 

“Whatever. I’m leaving,” Emma dismissed him as she grabbed her purse and walked toward the door.

 

“What, that’s it?” He asked, following her out. As she left his room, he leaned up against the doorframe as she walked away. “No, ‘see you later?’ No ‘it was nice talking to you?’”

 

Emma turned back to face him, walking backwards as she went down the hallway, “I _could_ say that, but I figured I’ve got enough lies going for the time being.”

 

He chuckled at that, as did she, and closed the door to his room with a sigh.

 

 

-/-

 

After having her talk with Killian, Emma left his hotel and made her way back to her building. She stopped by her apartment to quickly change out of her jeans and into some sweatpants before getting in the elevator and going up to Elsa’s floor. With all the sudden drama that was happening in her life, she was more than ready for some much-needed girl time with her best friend. Their weekly movie night had never sounded so appealing.

 

“Emma! Hurry up with the popcorn!” Elsa whined from where she sat on her living room couch, holding a few DVDs in her hands. “I need you to help me pick a movie!”

 

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Emma grumbled as she retrieved the bag of popcorn from the microwave and opened it gingerly, careful not to get burned by the steam emanating from it. She quickly dumped the popcorn into a large bowl before tossing the bag into the garbage and going to meet Elsa in the living room.

 

This week, it was Elsa’s turn to pick the movie, and Emma was relieved, as it was one less thing for her to think about. She could really watch anything, but right now, she was hoping for something with a lot of action. Maybe some machine guns or exploding buildings or angry warlords tearing each other to shreds – something high-octane and chaotic enough to help get her mind off of her own troubles.

 

“Alright,” Emma sighed as she sat down in the couch next to Elsa, “what are our choices?”

 

“Let’s see.” With a mischievous glint in her eye, Elsa laid three DVDs out on the coffee table. “I’ve narrowed it down to _‘My Best Friend’s Girl,’_ _‘My Best Friend’s Wedding,’_ and _‘While You Were Sleeping.’_ ” She then turned to Emma and burst into a fit of giggles, clearly unable to contain herself.

 

With a loud groan, Emma swatted Elsa on the shoulder and leaned back into the couch. “Can I trust you with this secret, Elsa? Or are you just going to keep making fun of me?”

 

“Oh, come on,” Elsa nudged Emma with her elbow, giving her an understanding smile. “You know that your secret is safe with me.”

 

 

“Good. And, by the way,” Emma sat up in the couch and looked at the DVDs laid out on the table, “we’re not watching any of these.”

 

Elsa laughed at that, but didn’t protest when Emma went off to search for a better movie.

 

-/-

 

After their movie night, Emma was admittedly feeling a lot more relaxed then she had been before.

 

After taking a shower and getting ready for bed, she was about to get under the covers when she heard her cell ringing. She walked over to her nightstand and picked it up to see that it was Walsh calling.

 

“Hello?” She answered, her voice tired and quiet.

 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted her, sounding as excited and cheery as usual, “how was movie night?”

 

Emma smiled softly as she got into her bed and covered herself with her blankets, resting her back on the headboard. “It was alright, nothing out of the ordinary.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that. Listen, I was just calling to tell you how great I think it is that you and Killian are getting along so well.”

 

Emma’s eyebrows shot up at that, but she kept her voice cool as she answered him. “Are we? What gave you that idea?”  


  
Walsh laughed softly on the other line. “He called me a few minutes ago and told me how much you two like each other. I’m a little surprised that it happened so fast, but it makes me so happy that my best friend and future wife are already so chummy.”

 

Emma clenched her fist at her side as she listened to Walsh speak. Of course Killian had to find some way to get the last word. Even in a way as indirect as this. “Of course,” she replied, hoping she didn’t sound too saccharine. “He’s, uh, he’s one hell of a guy.”

 

“I’m glad you think so. I’ve got a lot of bonding planned for you two over the next month. When the wedding comes, I want the two of you to be great friends. I just know you’re gonna love him.”

 

“Yup,” Emma clenched her eyes shut and leaned her head back against the wood behind her, “We’re two of a kind.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

On Sunday, Emma woke up and rolled out of bed, her limbs heavy and eyes swollen as she walked over to her bathroom and stood in front of the mirror.

 

 

She inspected herself carefully, pinching at her face and pulling on her cheeks, testing out different looks as she squinted her eyes at her reflection. She hadn’t felt this tired in a long time, and she couldn’t help but wonder if her new ‘bond’ with Killian was the reason for it.

 

 

She tied her hair up into a quick knot on the top of her head before jumping into the shower. She didn’t want to be in too long, she was supposed to be meeting up with Walsh and Killian for the third day in a row. She was really happy that Walsh was so excited about her and Killian getting along, but she’d be even happier if it were actually true.

 

 

After her shower she got dressed in a simple outfit of jeans and a black turtleneck before lacing up her boots and grabbing her coat. The walk to Walsh’s building was a quick one and when she got there, he came to the door quickly.

 

 

His smile was wide when he opened the door and saw Emma standing outside. “Hey, sweetheart,” he leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before pulling her into the apartment and helping her out of her coat.

 

 

“Hey,” she replied as she walked further in and made herself comfortable on his couch.

“Killian isn’t here yet? I gotta say, I’m a little surprised.”

 

 

Walsh laughed at that and pulled down two mugs from one of the cupboards in his kitchen. “Yeah, he said we can get started without him and he’ll catch up later. I figured that wasn’t too bad an idea.” He turned toward her and held up the two mugs. “Coffee?”

 

 

When she nodded her head and turned away again, bustling through the kitchen and preparing coffee for the both of them.

 

 

“I don’t mind that at all. This is the first time I’m getting you all to myself since he came into town.”

 

 

Walsh nodded his head to that as he brought over the two mugs, setting them down on the coffee table as he sat down next to Emma on the couch. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her body into his before taking her hand with his free one.

 

 

She sighed contentedly and leaned her head onto his shoulder as he kissed the top of her head.

 

 

“This may sound a little crazy,” he started, lacing their fingers together, “but I’ve missed you these past few days.”

 

 

She furrowed her brow at that and squeezed his hand, nestling further into his embrace. “What do you mean? We’ve literally seen each other every day.”

 

 

“I know,” he sighed, tracing his thumb back and forth over her hand, “but I feel like you’ve been distancing yourself a little since Killian showed up, and I don’t want you to feel like a third wheel around us. Granted, we’ve got ten years of friendship between us, but you are going to be my wife. And hopefully the two of you will get to spend a lot of time together. I just want you to be comfortable with him.”

 

 

Emma pulled away from Walsh so that she could look him in the eye. She smiled sweetly at him before leaning in and kissing him tenderly on the lips. “Don’t worry, okay? Killian and I get along just fine. He told you so himself.” She barely noticed the biting edge to her voice as she spoke that last part; she was still annoyed with him for having called Walsh behind her back.

 

 

Walsh sighed and smiled, seemingly content with her answer. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop worrying now.”

 

 

She granted him one last kiss before shifting over and reaching for her mug of coffee and taking a tentative sip. “So, what are we going to do today?”

 

 

Walsh took a short drink from his own mug and set it down before answering her. “I thought we could all go for a walk in the park and then maybe see how we feel afterward. Sound good?”

 

 

Emma nodded and relaxed into the couch and let Walsh pull her into his arms again. She was looking forward to spending the day with him, even if Killian was going to be tagging along.

 

-/-

 

When Walsh and Emma got to the park, walking hand-in-hand, Killian was waiting for them on a bench near the entrance, idly scrolling through his phone as people milled about around him. He didn’t notice Walsh and Emma approaching him until they were standing in front of him, at which point he put his phone away and offered them a wry smile.

 

 

“Well, I should have known. It’s just like Walsh to keep me waiting.” He stood from the bench and put his phone away, walking along with the couple as they made their way through the park.

 

 

It was early afternoon, so there were plenty of people around: other couples, families, a few dogs here and there.

 

 

Emma was content to people-watch as they walked, deciding not to listen in on Walsh and Killian’s conversation.

 

 

“What’s on the agenda today, mate?” Killian asked as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

 

 

Walsh shrugged in reply and squinted his eyes. “I don’t really know. I thought we could just hang out, you know? Like we used to.”

 

 

Killian chuckled at that and sighed happily. “I guess that’s alright with me.”

 

 

Emma was floating in and out of the conversation, offering a few affirmative comments here and there when she noticed a familiar dog in the distance. “Hey Walsh,” she elbowed him in the side to get his attention, “doesn’t that dog over there look just like Conan?”

 

 

Conan was a St. Bernard who belonged to their friend Graham Humbert. Graham actually went to college with Walsh and Killian and lived relatively close by until he moved to a different neighborhood a few months ago.

 

 

“Actually,” Walsh answered as he narrowed his eyes to get a clearer look at the animal, “I think that is Conan…”

 

 

That was all the confirmation Emma needed before she started off in the direction of the dog, finding his owner only moments later. “Graham!”

 

 

When he heard his name being called, Graham turned abruptly -- just in time to catch Emma, who was running straight at him.

 

 

“Hey!” He laughed as he hugged her tightly, surprised to run into her here. “How are you?”

 

 

“I’m great! Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks!”

 

 

As Emma was incessantly showering Graham with questions, Killian and Walsh trailed behind her.

 

 

When Killian saw who she’d run up to, he looked over the man with a skeptical eye. “Is--Is that Humbert?” He asked, turning to Walsh with an incredulous look on his face.

 

 

“It sure is. He actually used to live really close by. Until recently.”

 

 

“Hmm,” Killian mused as they walked up to the pair who were talking -- or rather Emma was assaulting Graham with questions, while he did his best to answer them in one breath.

 

 

The dog that stood by his side was less like a dog and more like a small horse, his head was resting just above Graham’s hip, and it was clear that the leash was simply a formality as a beast of such caliber could surely not be held back by a simple length of rope.

 

 

“Man, I haven’t seen Graham since…” Killian trailed off, trying to remember the last time he’d seen his friend. “I really don’t even remember.”

  
Walsh didn’t seem to notice the shift in Killian’s attitude as they continued to walk up to where the pair stood. When they finally made it over, Walsh bent at the waist to greet Conan, who immediately brushed past him to say hello to Killian.

 

“Bloody hell!” Killian shouted as Conan’s front legs came to rest on his shoulders, knocking him to the ground as the dog proceeded to lick his face, despite Killian’s efforts to turn his head away from Conan’s amorous affection.

 

“Sorry,” Graham chuckled as he grabbed a hold of Conan’s collar and tugged him away from Killian, who lay prone on the grass, “he just gets so… eager when it comes to new people.” He extended his hand to Killian, although his eyes were still trained on the dog at his side.

 

Killian let Graham help him up and smiled when Graham finally turned back to him.

 

“Sorry again, my name is Graham Hum--” He cut himself off as he finally got a good look at the man whose hand he was shaking. “Killian Jones? Is that you?”

 

“Aye,” Killian chuckled and nodded before pulling Graham into a hug. “Long time no see, eh?”

 

Graham hugged Killian tightly before pulling back, a bright grin on his face. “You can say that again! How have you been! I didn’t know you were coming into town!”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been sort of M.I.A. lately, haven’t I?” Killian asked nervously as his smile waned minimally.

 

“We really ought to get together and catch up sometime,” Graham offered, looking at Killian hopefully before adding, “if that’s cool with you.”

 

Emma groaned before taking Conan’s leash from Graham’s hand and tugging Graham away from Killian. “Yes, yes, I’m sure it’s cool and you two can work out the details later because I’m not done with you yet.”

 

Graham chuckled and let Emma drag him away, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she put one of hers around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked, Conan trotting happily along beside them.

 

“Well,” Killian started, turning to make sure Walsh hadn’t also left, “they’re awfully chummy, aren’t they?” He dusted himself off, shaking the extra blades of grass from his arms and back as best he could. “Makes me wonder.”

“Does it?” Walsh asked, putting his hands into the pockets of his coat as he regarded Killian with a raised eyebrow.

“Why does she like him so much?” And why doesn’t she like me? He bit his tongue to keep from adding that last part. It wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t help but wonder. He and Graham were both Walsh’s friends from college and they had similar personalities, so why did she get along so well with Graham but not with him?

“I don’t know,” Walsh shrugged, “they hit it off the moment I introduced them, about a month after we started dating. She loves him, and I couldn’t be happier about how well they get along. Even if they somehow make me feel like a third wheel whenever they hang out.” He snorted and gave a quick laugh at that one, and Killian simply rolled his eyes.

“And, what? You never get jealous?” He knew that he was digging, but his curiosity was only mounting as he watched Graham and Emma walk ahead of them. They were holding hands now, their fingers laced together as their hands swung back and forth between them. He seemed to have just told her something hilarious because she had her head thrown back, blonde curls cascading down her back as she laughed at whatever he’d said to her.

“Honestly?” Walsh took a minute to think over his answer before sighing and looking at Killian. “Sometimes, but they get along so well that if she left me for him I don’t even think I could be mad.”

It was Killian’s turn to laugh now, and he did so behind his hand to avoid laughing in his friend’s face. “And is that not a possibility?”

“Nah,” Walsh shook his head and gave a quick wave of his hand. “Graham would never leave Ruby.”

Killian had no idea who this Ruby was, but she must be one hell of a girlfriend if she can hold onto a man like Graham Humbert.

The group continued to walk in pairs until they reached a café, where Emma and Graham stopped as they waited for Walsh and Killian to catch up. When they did, Emma handed Conan’s leash to Graham before addressing the other two men. “I’m gonna run inside and get some coffee and doughnuts. You boys play nice until I get back.”

“Yes, Mom,” Graham mock-whined and Emma snorted and rolled her eyes before turning away. Graham got down on one knee to pet Conan, scratching behind his ears with gloved fingers as Walsh and Killian watched him.

“So, Humbert,” Killian started, folding his arms over his chest. “Tell me about Ruby.”

Graham smiled at the mention of that name and stood, gripping Conan’s leash firmly. “How do you know about Ruby?”

 

Killian nodded his head to his left, where Walsh was standing by. “A little birdie mentioned her on the walk over. I figured I should ask about her, seeing as I don’t even remember the last time you had a girlfriend.”

 

 

Graham chuckled at that, taking off his gloves and putting them into the pocket of his coat. The movement caused Killian’s eyes to fall to Graham’s hand, where he noticed a gold band on Graham’s left ring finger. “Actually, Ruby’s my wife.”

“Oh,” Killian was utterly floored by that news and blinked owlishly for a few moments before slapping Graham on the back. “Congratulations, mate! When did the two of you tie the knot?”

“About a year and a half ago,” Graham answered, a silly grin on his face. “We dated for a few years before that, though.”

“Wow,” Killian felt a strange mix of emotions stirring inside of him. He was glad for his friend’s happiness, but he felt like an idiot for not knowing that any of this had been going on. “That’s great news.”

 

“Thanks,” Graham smiled shyly and ran a hand through his hair. “You would just love Ruby, I know it. I’d love for the two of you to meet sometime.”

 

Killian nodded, thankful that Emma walked out of the cafe before he had to provide Graham with an answer.

 

“Alright, boys,” she sighed, telling each of them men lift a takeaway cup from the carrier she held, which was stacked on top of a pink bakery box. “Drink up. Oh, the one with the white lid is mine.”

 

They each grabbed a cup of coffee and Killian cocked his head at her. “What’s so special about it?”

 

“It’s probably hot chocolate,” Graham answered, wrinkling his nose and sticking his tongue out at Emma before picking up one of the cups she was holding.

 

Again Killian found himself wanting to roll his eyes at Graham and Emma’s closeness. It really shouldn’t have bothered him, but he couldn’t help it. Something about the way that the two of them interacted threatened him in a way he wasn’t sure about.

 

The group walked over to one of the outdoor tables, Walsh and Killian sitting on one side while Emma and Graham sat across from them. Once they settled in their seats, Emma linked her arm with Graham’s and rested her head on his shoulder. Killian averted his gaze and trained it on the cup in front of him.

 

“So, Graham,” Walsh started as he reached for the box, grabbing a glazed doughnut, “how have you and Ruby been since I saw you last?”

 

Graham swallowed the mouthful of coffee he’d taken and smiled at his friend. “We’re both great, thanks. Keeping busy. She’s taking things easy right now, and, of course it’s driving her crazy. You know Ruby.”

 

Emma giggled at that and Graham leaned into her to get her attention. “And what about you, Miss Swan? Don’t you have a birthday coming up?”

 

Emma groaned at that and sat up, taking a sip from her cup and shaking her head. “Ugh, yes. don’t remind me.”

 

Killian’s ears perked up at the mention of Emma’s birthday and a small smile crossed his face as she went on.

 

“I’m just not looking forward to this one. Thirty seems like such a big deal!”

 

Walsh snorted at that and shook his head. “You’re making it out to be a much bigger issue than it is. Trust me. I turned thirty and I didn’t spontaneously combust. You’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

 

She gave a mumbled response and clenched her eyes shut. “Let’s change the subject.”

 

All three men laughed at that before Killian spoke up. “Do you have any plans for your birthday, Emma?”

 

She shot him a glare and rolled her eyes. “Did I not just ask to change the subject?”

 

Killian raised his hands in surrender and shrugged his shoulders. “Forgive me, I just thought I’d ask.”

 

“That’s actually a good question,” Graham chimed in as he reached for the box and pulled out a bear claw. “I wouldn’t mind hearing the answer.”

 

She sighed loudly and took a hefty swig from her cup. “I don’t know, you guys. I was really just hoping to make it out of work in one piece. That’s all I need.”

 

“Oh come on now,” Walsh all but whined. “You have to know that I’m not gonna let you off the hook that easily.”

 

Emma gave him a small but affectionate smile and tucked her bangs behind her ear. “Well, I guess I could make a little time for you.”

 

“How kind of you.” Walsh joked and gave a short laugh.

 

Her smile didn’t wane when she looked away from him, and Killian couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking.

 

The group sat at the table, talking idly as they sipped their drinks and ate their pastries. After a few moments, Graham’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket, looking at the screen before announcing that his wife was calling and he needed to answer it. He handed Conan’s leash to Emma before getting up from the table and walking out of earshot.

 

Emma guided Conan closer, letting him rest his head on her knee as she looked down at him fondly, running her hand over his head. She’d probably missed Conan just as much -- if not more than she’d missed Graham. She could tell by the way that Graham got up to take Ruby’s call that he would have to go soon. The thought alone was enough to dampen her mood.

 

When Graham moved away, he promised Emma that he would still come around to hang out with her and Walsh and, at first, she believed him. But as the weeks went by without so much as a visit, she knew that their dynamic had changed. She didn’t like it, but she knew that she’d have to accept it. Everyone left eventually.

 

Within a few minutes Graham returned to the table, but he didn’t bother sitting down. He pursed his lips and looked down at Emma, giving her the same look he did every time he had bad news.

 

He stood behind her and bent at the waist to drop a kiss to the top of her head. “I have to go. Ruby’s got a doctor’s appointment in an hour.”

 

Emma didn’t even protest this time. She handed him Conan’s leash as she stood from the table and pulled him into a wordless hug, letting him hold her tightly as she buried her face in his chest.

 

“Are you okay?” He asked into her hair and she nodded before stepping back and offering him a small smile. “Good,” he sighed and brushed a quick kiss over her forehead before walking around the table and saying goodbye to Walsh and Killian. He gave her one last smile before turning around and walking away, leaving her to watch until he was out of sight.

 

She groaned and put her elbow on the table, resting her head on her hand. Walsh got up and walked around the table, occupying Graham’s empty seat and putting his arms around Emma’s shoulders.

 

He tugged her closer and kissed her on the temple before leaning his head against her and murmuring, “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

 

-/-

 

The walk back to Walsh’s apartment was mostly silent. He and Emma walked hand-in-hand while Killian followed wordlessly behind them.

 

He mostly used the time to reflect on his thoughts, but when his thoughts returned to Emma and Graham, he decided to count the cracks in the sidewalk and read street signs aloud instead.

 

-/-

 

Upon entering Walsh’s apartment, they trip stripped their coats and Killian went to sprawl himself out in a chair while Walsh pulled Emma into a hug, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

 

“How can I make you feel better?” He asked into her hair as he rubbed her back gently. “Do you want to have a movie night.”

 

She lifted her head so that she could touch her lips to his and nodded, offering him a barely-there smile. He beamed at that and kissed her forehead before walking off to the living room.

 

“Why don’t you call Elsa and see if she wants to join us. She usually knows how to cheer you up.”

 

Emma figured it couldn’t hurt and pulled out her cell phone, shooting Elsa a quick text to come over to Walsh’s as quickly as she could.

 

They were thirty minutes into E.T. when there was a knocking at the apartment door. Walsh was the one who decided to answer it, leaving Emma and Killian alone.

 

Killian kept his eyes trained on the television, not letting himself even think about the fact that he was alone with Emma. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case for long as Walsh returned moments later with Elsa trailing behind.

 

Ellsa waved at Killian in greeting before sitting next to Emma and taking her hand, wordlessly settling in and letting the movie go on.

 

When it finished, Killian was the first to get up, crossing the apartment and grabbing his coat.

 

“Are you leaving already?” Walsh asked from where he sat on the couch.

 

“Yes,” Killian answered, shoving his hands into the sleeves of his coat and adjusting the collar. “The movie’s over.”

 

“Oh, come on,” Walsh whined. “Don’t go yet.”

 

Killian sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “Why not? What’s next on the agenda? We going to braid each other’s hair and watch the Notebook?”

 

Elsa scoffed at that and self-consciously twirled the end of her braid around her finger. “Doesn’t sound like a bad plan to me…”

 

Killian grunted at that and walked to the door, but Walsh got up and stopped him before he could open it and leave.

 

“Killian, come on. Just stay. For Emma. She could use the company.”

 

Killian tensed at those words before sighing and turning to look at his friend. “What’s the matter with her, anyway?”

 

Walsh shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll tell you if you stay.”

 

The groan that resounded from Killian was all the answer Walsh needed before he reached out and grabbed Killian’s coat, taking it off and draping it over a nearby chair.

 

Killian then turned to him and regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “Well?”

 

“Oh,” Walsh started before taking a moment to think over his answer. “Well, she and Graham are really close and he used to hang out with us almost daily before he moved away. Once he stopped coming around all the time, she was really affected and now whenever he leaves her she takes it really hard. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

 

Killian decides that he doesn't need to know anymore and heaves a long suffering sigh before going back to the living room and sitting down again. In the time that he and Walsh were in the kitchen, Emma had gotten up from the couch and started the Godfather. Even though he'd just made a joke about the Notebook, he can't help but feel just smidge disappointed that they decided not to watch it after all.

 

-/-

 

After watching the entire Godfather trilogy, it was late in the evening and everyone was preparing to leave Walsh's apartment.

 

Killian and Elsa were the only ones in the living room when she looked over at him and said, "You know, you're being a little bit obvious."

 

He had no idea what she was talking about so he sort of cocked his head to the side as he waited for her to clarify.

 

"With the staring. At Emma. I caught you looking at her, like, forty times."

 

He scoffed at that and was about to deny it when she spoke again.

 

"I know you slept together, but come _on_! You're practically drooling over her."

 

He was certain that his eyebrows could now be found somewhere above his headline but he recovered quickly and cleared his throat. "I'm not sure what you mean, love. Emma and I only met a few days ago. I hardly know her well enough to sleep with her."

 

"Oh, cut the act." Elsa whined and moved to the opposite end of the couch so that she was sitting close to the chair he was occupying. “You’re really not fooling me.”

 

"Elsa, darling," he sighed and folded his arms over his chest, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

 

"Hm," she hummed as she rose from the couch, getting up to grab her coat. She turned back to look at him, a sly smirk on her face. "How's that birthmark on your left thigh doing?"

 

Shit. She knew.

 

At Killian's slack-jawed expression Elsa giggled shrilly before putting on her coat and saying goodbye to Walsh and Emma, who'd decided to spend the night with Walsh.

 

"Elsa, wait up!" Killian called after her, but immediately regretted doing so when both Emma and Walsh looked at him skeptically. "Uh, why don't you let me walk you home, lass?"

 

Elsa smiled triumphantly at him and nodded in approval. "Sure thing."

 

As soon as they were in the hallway outside of Walsh's apartment, Killian felt his cheeks flush as he regarded Elsa with a slight nod of his head. "So, I assume Swan told you everything, then?"

 

"Every last detail," Elsa confirmed with a nod of her own.

“Bloody hell,” Killian swore under his breath as they made their way over to the elevators. “So what now?” He asked when the doors opened and let her enter first before he followed suit and pushed the button for the lobby. “Do you want to lecture me about ruining their relationship? Do you want to shame me for coming onto a nearly-married woman? Oh god, are you going to hit me? If you do, just, please avoid the face.”

 

He winced in anticipation, eyes clenched shut. He waited for a few moments, bracing himself for Elsa’s wrath. When the elevator stopped in the lobby, the doors opened and he Elsa walked out, leaving Killian behind. He cracked one eye open, almost surprised to find himself still in one piece.

When he caught up with Elsa, she looked at him almost sympathetically. “I’m not going to hit you. I’m really not even angry. It’s none of my business.”

Killian didn’t know how to respond to that so he simply nodded as she went on. “I can only imagine how you must be feeling, having to keep a secret like this from your best friend, and I really only wanted to tell you that I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

 

“You what?” He was certain that he’d misheard her. Was she offering to be his _confidant_ or something?

 

Elsa sighed and tucked a few errant strands of hair behind her ear as she walked out of the lobby to Walsh’s building. Once outside, she reached into her pocket to pull out her gloves and started walking in the direction of her own apartment. “Listen, Killian,” she put on her gloves and then turned to look at him as they walked along, “I know that we don’t really know each other. But it seems almost a little unfair for you to have to keep everything you’re feeling to yourself.”

 

Killian scoffed at that and gave a fake laugh. “And who says that I’m feeling anything?”

 

She groaned and rolled her eyes, stopping in her tracks and grabbing him lightly by the elbow so that he’d stop in front of her. “You don’t have to put up that tough-guy front when it’s just the two of us. To be frank, it’s as ridiculous as it is transparent. Not to mention tiring.” She tore her gaze away from his to rummage through her purse, and Killian waited patiently, curious as to what she was searching for.

 

 

After another few moments she pulled out an old receipt and – was that a _blue crayon_?

 

 

He cocked his head to the side at that and she looked at him, the barest hint of a blush gracing her fair cheeks. “I babysit sometimes,” she defended with a shrug, reaching out to take him by the shoulder and turn him around so that she could use him as a makeshift desk.

 

 

When she’d finished she turned him back around and thrust the piece of paper into his hand. Turning his gaze down to it, Killian noticed that she’d written down her phone number and a few other details. He looked back to her and raised an eyebrow, waiting for clarification.

 

 

She sighed and closed his hand around the parchment. “I can tell that you’re going to be a stubborn ass for some reason, but I know that you could use someone to talk to about all of this. And if you’re not going to talk to Emma, which I think you should, you can talk to me. So, text me. Or call me. Or just come over. I put my address on there, too.”

 

The corners of Killian’s mouth turned slightly upward as he cocked his head to the side. “You really don’t like to give up, do you?”

 

“Call me persistent,” she shrugged before she turned away.

 

“And she says I’m the stubborn one,” he muttered to himself as she started to leave.

 

“That’s because you are!” She called out before turning part way around to shoot him a withering glare.

 

“How did you even _hear_ that?” He yelled after her, but she didn’t respond, only waving at him over her shoulder as she walked away.

 

-/-

 

On Friday morning, Emma awoke to a loud knocking on her apartment door. She drowsily rolled out of bed and padded over to her front door, barely securing her glasses on the bridge of her nose when she heard keys scraping in the lock.

 

Emma stood back and stared in disbelief as Elsa walked into her apartment and took off her coat as she turned and looked at Emma as if her unannounced visit was the most natural thing in the world.

 

“Good morning, Emma,” Elsa greeted her cheerily before walking into the kitchen and grabbing a mug from an overhead cabinet. She filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove, leaning back against the counter as Emma closed the front door and followed behind her.

 

“Elsa,” she started, squinting her eyes at the clock on the stove, which read 6:03. “What are you doing here?”

 

Elsa was rifling through the pantry in search of a box of tea and stopped when she heard Emma’s question, which made her stop and cock her head to the side. “What?”

 

“Why are you _here_?” Emma gestured to the apartment around them, as if that would help Elsa understand.

 

“Oh,” Elsa smiled and unwrapped her teabag swinging it around by the string as she answered Emma’s inquiry. “I just thought that we could go out for drink after work tonight, since it’s Friday. _And_ because your birthday week away.”

 

“Ugh,” Emma groaned holding one hand up as if to silence her friend. “ _Don’t_ remind me.”

 

“Sorry,” Elsa muttered a half-hearted apology as she poured hot water into a mug.

 

Emma was waking back to her bedroom when she stopped short and turned back around to look at her friend. “If you want to get drinks after work, why are you here _now_?”

 

Elsa took a moment to ponder her answer before she seemed to come up with a good one. “I just want to make sure you pick something that you won’t want to change out of.”

 

“Whatever,” Emma sighed as she turned around a skulked off to her bathroom for a shower.

 

After she’d showered and eaten, Emma went to her closet, followed closely by Elsa, to select her outfit for the day. She’d picked out at least here or four, which were promptly shot down by the other blonde, who had her lips pursed in concentration as she sorted through the clothes hanging in the closet.

 

“Oh!” Elsa exclaimed as she pulled out a red dress. “What about this?”

 

“Elsa…” Emma was wary as she took the dress from her friend’s hand and held it up in front of herself. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes!” Elsa insisted, pushing Emma out of the closet and back into the bedroom. “I haven’t seen you wear it for a long time.”

 

The dress was one that Walsh had bought for her a few months ago. It had a Peter Pan collar and three-quarter-length sleeves, with the hem of its A-line skirt cutting out just above the knee. She’d only worn it once or twice, and when she had, it had been for a more special occasion than after-work drinks. Emma pushed that thought from her mind and decided to get dressed so that she could get dressed and do her hair before finally leaving for work.

 

-/-

 

When they finally arrived at the office, Emma and Elsa settled into the cubicles before Emma went to the break room to make her usual cup of coffee.

 

When she got back to the break room, she went to get her usual mug and was already halfway through making her coffee when she heard another person walk in. She held her breath hoping it wasn’t going to be –

 

“Good morning, Emma!” Mary Margaret Blanchard greeted her cheerily as she walked in and stopped in front of the fridge, dropping her lunch off on a shelf and closing the door gently. “How are you today?”

 

Emma smiled shallowly at the woman in front of her and nodded to her in greeting. “Hello, Mary Margaret. I’m doing fine, thanks. How are you?”

 

The brunette smiled and shrugged her shoulders as she walked across the break room to get a mug from one of the cupboards. “Can’t complain.”

 

They stood in relative silence for a few moments before Mary Margaret spoke again. “So. I hear your birthday is coming up? Is that true?”

 

Emma groaned inwardly, but didn’t let her smile wane as she answered, “Yes it is.”

 

“Ooh!” Mary Margaret cooed giddily, her eyebrows raised in excitement. “And how old are you going to be?”

 

“Thirty,” Emma answered through clenched teeth, gripping her mug a little tighter.

 

“Wow, the big three-oh!” Mary Margaret sighed wistfully as she stirred her coffee. “I remember when _I_ turned thirty. It was such an adjustment! It makes you feel so _old_.”

 

“Well, it was nice talking to you, Mary Margaret.” Emma felt a little awkward cutting their conversation short, but she really wasn’t looking forward to turning thirty, and was hardly eager to discuss it at length.

 

When she got back to her desk and sat down, Elsa leaned over, her head cocked to the side.

 

“What gotten into you? Usually your morning coffee puts you in a better mood.”

 

Emma leaned her elbows onto her desk and rested her head on her hands as she let out a labored sigh. “Elsa, do I look old to you?”

 

“Uh,” Elsa studied Emma’s face before answering, “no, certainly not.”

 

“You hesitated,” Emma scrambled for her purse, pulling out a compact mirror and looking at herself as best as she could in the small looking glass. “I’m getting old, aren’t I?”

 

Elsa rose from her seat and walked over to Emma’s desk, leaning backward onto it and snatching the compact from Emma’s hand. “Emma, relax. You don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

 

Emma scoffed at that and rolled her eyes.

 

“Seriously. Now stop wasting time worrying about your looks and get to work.” Elsa held the mirror out to Emma and waited for her to take it.

 

That actually made Emma laugh and she accepted the compact from Elsa’s extended hand. “Sure thing, boss.”

 

-/-

 

After work, Emma and Elsa walked arm-in-arm to the hotel a few blocks away. Once they were there, they seated themselves in an open booth and waited for a waiter to come around and take their orders. Emma couldn’t help but wonder if they might run into Killian, and was subsequently reminded of the first night they met in this very bar.

 

They were greeted shortly by a perky waitress with red hair who took their drink orders and quickly scurried off to fill them.

 

“So,” Elsa spoke and got Emma attention as she quickly checked the time on her phone and slipped it back into her bag before tapping her fingernails almost nervously on the tabletop, “what’s new?”

 

Emma made a face at that as their waitress returned and set their drinks down in front of them. “What’s new? Really, Elsa? You ask me that as if we haven’t just spent the whole day together.”

 

Elsa shrugged helplessly and took an eager sip from her drink.

 

Emma narrowed her eyes at the blonde across from her; she’d been acting strangely all day. First, coming over and picking out Emma’s outfit, then the impromptu girls’ night, and now she was trying to make _small talk_?

 

“Elsa, what’s going on?” Emma asked, point blank, setting her drink aside and leaning forward as she leveled Elsa with a withering glare. “Why are you acting so strangely?”  


  
“I’m not acting strangely, Emma,” she defended quickly, averting her gave and staring at something on the floor. “I just thought you’d want to have a little fun on a Friday night.” She turned her gaze back to Emma’s, and she looked almost hurt as she pursed her lips together. “Sorry for trying to show you a good time.” She shrugged and sighed, making Emma feel a bit guilty.

 

“I’m sorry,” Emma apologized as she reached out and took her friend’s hand across the table. “I guess I’m just on-edge lately and also a little paranoid? I don’t know, but I’m sorry for being skeptical of you.”

 

Elsa smiled warmly and squeezed Emma’s hand. “Don’t worry about it. I know you’re under a lot of pressure with all of the wedding stuff you have to do.”

 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Emma grumbled as she released Elsa’s hand and reached for her drink, downing the rest of it in one go. She held up a finger to signal the bartender and he brought her over another which she promptly took a hefty swig of.

 

“Emma, maybe you should take it easy?” Elsa cautioned as she took the tumbler from Emma’s hand and set it down next to her own drink. “This isn’t our only stop for the night.”

 

Emma’s eyes widened at that and she leaned back in her seat. “I _knew_ you were keeping something from me!”

 

-/-

 

After they’d finished their drinks, the girls left the bar and flagged down a taxi. The pair got in and Elsa gave the cabbie the address of their apartment building.

 

“I thought you said the bar wasn’t the only stop?” Emma asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

 

“It’s not, I just need to grab something from my apartment first.”

 

Emma was skeptical, but held her tongue as they drove off.

 

When they arrived at their destination Elsa climbed out of the car and waited for Emma to follow her. Emma gave her a confused look, but got out, slamming the cab door behind her.

 

“I thought you were only make a pit stop.”

 

“Uh, I am, but I just remembered that I also need to do something else that might take a little while,” Elsa explained. “So, why don’t you just wait for me in your apartment and I’ll come get you when I’m ready?”

 

“Okay…” Emma stared at her friend for a moment before they went into their building and rode the elevator up to Emma’s floor. She stepped out of the lift only to have Elsa hop off after her. “What are you doing?”

 

Elsa’s eyes widened as her mouth fell open and she stammered for a moment before thinking of something to say. “I, um, I forgot that the thing I need is in your apartment. I left it here this morning.”

 

Emma walked up to her front door and inserted her key into the lock with a weighty sigh. “God, Elsa, I have no idea why you’re being so weird today, but—”

 

“ _Surprise!_ ”

 

A roar of laughter and applause sounded from Emma’s apartment as she walked in and Elsa closed the door behind them. There were at least forty people in her apartment and there was a ‘happy birthday’ banner hanging in the living room.

 

This was a surprise party.

 

She heard Elsa giggle behind her as she wrapped her arms around Emma. “Surprise! Happy almost-birthday, Emma!”

 

Emma was still in shock as she let Elsa lead her into the room where every smiling face was turned toward her. “Wh—when—where’s Walsh?”

 

“I’m right here, sweetheart.”   
  


She turned to see her fiancé walking toward her with his arms open wide. He hugged her tightly and kissed her on the crown of her head as she continued to stand still in disbelief.

 

“How did you manage to pull this off?” Emma asked him quietly as he helped her out of her coat and handed it to Elsa, who ran off to put it away. “My birthday isn’t for another week!”

 

Walsh chuckled as he looped his arm around her waist and led her further into the roomful of smiling people. “I know, if I’d tried to have this party on your birthday you would have seen right through it.”

 

“Okay, but—”

 

“Happy birthday, Emma!”

 

Emma froze when she heard a familiar voice behind her and spun on her heels to find Graham smiling brightly at her.

 

She forgot all about what she’d been about to tell Walsh and jumped into Graham’s open arms. “Hi!” She was so excited to see Graham again that she almost didn’t notice the woman standing by his side.

 

“Ruby!” Emma practically shouted as she reached out and pulled the brunette into her arms. They both shared a laugh as they hugged each other. Emma pulled back, her hands on Ruby’s shoulders as she looked her over. “Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much!”

 

Ruby giggled when Emma pulled her in for another hug. “I know! Graham told me he saw you guys at the park the other day.”

 

Emma put an arm around Ruby’s shoulders and walked her over to the couch where they sat down together and fell into conversation. Graham chuckled to himself when he was left standing alone and turned to Walsh.

 

“Where’s the Mad Dog?” Walsh nodded his head over Graham’s shoulder, and he turned to see Killian isolated and leaning up against the counter.

 

Killian was standing a few feet away in the kitchen, already halfway through his second beer and dreading the rest of the night. He had no idea how he was supposed to keep his eyes off of Emma – the red dress she wore was eye-catching in and of itself, and the way she laughed and smiled made him feel as though he were going to burst. He was growing tired of asking himself when his lustful feeling for her were going to subside, because that was clearly all this was. He barely knew her. They’d had a one-night stand, and he, uncharacteristic as it may seem, wanted more of her. But only from a physical standpoint. Other than that, she was just another pretty face.

 

“So,” he was jolted out of his thoughts when Elsa came into the kitchen and stood beside him, a bottle of beer clutched in her own hand. “How are you enjoying the party?”

 

Killian chuckled softly and shrugged. “Party’s only just started, lass. There’s not much to enjoy yet.”

 

“Okay,” she agreed absently and turned to go before looking back at him and lowering her voice, “just try to keep your staring in check.”

 

“Bloody hell,” he muttered as he brought his bottle back up to his lips and drained it.

 

This was going to be a long night.

 

-/-

 

The party had been on for about an hour when Killian decided to finally migrate from the kitchen into the living room. It was then that he noticed Graham standing in the middle of the room talking with Walsh, Emma, and Elsa with a gorgeous brunette on his arm.

 

Killian approached the pair from the side, grabbing Graham’s attention by clapping him on the back. “Humbert!”

 

Graham beamed at Killian and pulled him in for a tight hug. “Hey, man, I was wondering when you were going to come out of hiding.”

 

Killian rolled his eyes at that before he looked to the woman at Graham’s side. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, brushing a light kiss over her knuckles. “And you, must be Mrs. Humbert. You are even more beautiful than I’d imagined.”

 

She smiled and looked to Graham, who jumped to make introductions. “Oh! Sorry, hon. This is Killian Jones. He went to college with Walsh and me.”

 

“Killian?” She repeated, raising her eyebrows at the name. “So you are the illustrious Mad Dog?”

 

The group all shared a laugh at that and Killian shook his head with a sigh. “Guilty.”

 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. Ruby.” She smiled again and shook his hand.

 

“Watch out for this one, though,” Emma chimed in, “he’s a serial flirter. We think he may have a problem.” They all laughed again, save Killian, who shot her a pointed glare before turning his attention back to Graham and Ruby.

 

“What do you lot say I get us some drink to celebrate your nuptials?”

 

Graham nodded but Ruby paused, shaking her head, “None for me, thanks.”

 

Killian scoffed, raising his eyebrows at her. “Oh, come on, it’s a party. What, are you the designated driver? That’s probably for the best, Graham was a real lightweight back in college. I remember this one time—”

 

“Actually, Killian,” Graham cut in with a raised hand and a soft chuckle, “Ruby’s pregnant.”

 

Killian balked minimally and his eyes fell to where Ruby’s hands rested on a small but visible baby bump. His mouth fell slightly open as he tried to think of something to say. “Oh, wow. Um, congratulations to you both.”

 

The couple smiled at him before Graham gripped him by the shoulder. “Thanks. So, about those drinks, then?”

 

“Right.” Killian gave the group a nod before he turned and headed back to the kitchen. He found that he was suddenly filled with conflicting emotions of happiness for his friend, but also gripping guilt that he hadn’t known about the changes going on while he was away. He pulled himself together and walked back out into the living room to find that the group had moved, leaving only Emma and Graham standing in the middle of the room.

 

They were talking and laughing, her hand on his chest as she threw her head back, allowing the waves of golden hair to spill over her shoulders and down to her rear. Killian felt his jaw clench as he watched them, anger and – _somehow_ – jealousy flaring up inside of him. He set the drinks down on a nearby table and walked past Emma and Graham, headed for the door.

 

Emma saw Killian leaving and excused herself from her conversation with Graham to see what he was doing. She caught him in the hallway, leaning up against the wall with his eyes closed.

 

“What are you doing out here?” She asked, her brow creased and arms crossed over her chest.

 

He didn’t even bother looking at her as he sighed and answered, “What does it matter to you? You’ve got a party inside to be the life of.”

 

Emma detected a hint of venom in his tone and took a moment to consider it before opening her mouth again. “Did I do something to you? Are you angry?”

 

This time he looked at her before standing up straight and walking over to her, only stopping when they were standing toe-to-toe. “You know, Swan, you can make as many jokes as you want about my flirting, but I saw you in there with Humbert. Don’t think you’re fooling me.”

 

Emma felt her cheeks begin to burn with anger – _yes, it was anger and not the fact that he was standing so close she could see his pulse throbbing in his neck_ – as she took a step backward. “Whoa, what are you implying?”

 

He laughed, a sharp, feral sound that made her spine tingle as his teeth flashed white and prominent against the dark stubble surrounding them. “Well, love. You slept with me. Why should I assume that your, uh, _relationship_ with Graham is any different?”

 

Her jaw dropped and she felt as though she’d been punched in the gut. “Ex _cuse_ me?”

 

Killian shrugged and shook his head. “There’s no need to play coy, Emma. I mean, really. Why shouldn’t I assume that you’ve had your way with _all_ of Walsh’s friends?”

 

He’d barely finished speaking before Emma raised her hand and struck him firmly on his left cheek, at a visible loss for words.

 

“Listen, buddy,” she started, waiting until he looked at her to continue, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but I can guarantee it has nothing to do with me.” She paused, and Killian noticed her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I know that what we did was wrong, but I’m not going to stand here and be lectured by you when you’re no better than I am.” She took a few steps away from him before turning to go. “I don’t care if you come back to the party or not, but you better stay the hell away from me.”

 

As soon as Killian had spoken the words, he regretted them, and now it was much too late to take them back. He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall again before letting his legs give out as he slid down to the floor.

 

“Bloody hell,” he sighed as he leaned his head back, his burning cheek serving as a glaring reminder of his most recent mistake.

 

-/-

 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting out in the hall, but when Killian finally decided to return to the party, he found that nothing had changed, and saw Emma talking with a redhead in one corner of the room.

 

He tore his gaze away from her and returned to his perch in the kitchen, not wanting to ruffle any feathers by actually rejoining the party. He wanted to leave, but thought better of it, deciding it would be tricky to explain to Walsh.

 

He cracked open another beer and drank half of it in one go, sighing as he rested against the counter.

 

“Who is that?” Ariel asked Emma in a hushed tone, her voice almost a whisper. “He’s kinda cute.”

 

Emma turned her head and followed her bridesmaid’s line of sight to find she was watching Killian. The sight of him made Emma’s stomach lurch so she turned back to her friend and shook her head. “That’s Walsh’s best man, Killian. Trust me, you are barking up the wrong tree with that one.”

 

Ariel cocked her head to the side, unsure of what Emma meant.

 

Emma made to clarify about Killian’s less-than-stellar personality before Ariel chimed in.

 

“Oh, wait… is he gay?”

 

Emma’s furrowed her brow at Ariel’s question and considered her options. She knew better than anyone that Killian was most certainly straight, but after what he’d put her through tonight, she didn’t want any other women falling prey to his tricks. So, she figured, better safe than sorry.

 

“Yes, he is,” Emma nodded her head as if it would help further her point.

 

Ariel hummed in acknowledgement of Emma’s answer as she looked Killian over. “Wow, what a shame. Does he have a boyfriend? I have a gay friend I could _totally_ set him up with! Let me go ask if he’s single…”

 

“Uh, no!” Emma stopped Ariel with a hand on her elbow, pulling her back. “He’s only come out to me so far. Walsh doesn’t even know. I only told you so that you wouldn’t walk over there just to be rejected.”

  
“Wow, Emma,” Ariel looked at the blonde adoringly, “you are _such_ a great friend.”

 

Emma bit back a small laugh at that and shook her head. “Yeah, I try.”

 

-/-

 

Finally unable to take the festivities anymore, Killian decided it was time for him to leave. He grabbed his coat and put it on before walking toward the door.

 

He’d only taken a few steps down the hall when he heard Graham’s voice calling out to him.

 

“Hey, Jones! Where are you going? Party’s not over yet!”

 

Killian sighed and turned around, pasting a fake smile on his face. “Sorry, mate, I’m afraid I’m all partied-out.”

 

“Oh, come on,” Graham chided him, “we haven’t even cut the cake yet.”

 

Killian ran a hand over his hair as he tried to think of an excuse. “It’s just that—”

 

“What are you guys doing out here?”

 

Killian groaned when he heard Walsh’s voice and he felt his heart drop when he saw the look of disappointment on Walsh’s face.

 

“Oh, are you leaving already?” Walsh asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

 

“Aye, I fear I’m no longer in much of a festive mood.” Killian decided to go for a somewhat abridged version of the truth.

 

“What’s the matter, Killian? Tell us. We’re your friends.”

 

“Bloody hell,” Killian muttered to himself before he leaned back against the wall and sat down on the floor again.

 

Walsh and Graham followed suit, sitting down on either side of him. Killian smiled when he noticed that, but the good feeling left as soon as he remembered why they’d gathered in the first place.

 

“So what’s wrong, then?” Graham asked, bracing his arms around his legs as he waited for Killian to start talking.

 

_Shit_. Killian cursed inwardly – there was no way he could tell them what happened with Emma, so maybe he could just offer them a different version of his troubles for the night.

 

“It’s hard for me to come home and see how great you guys are doing. I don’t know, it’s just really petty and stupid, but you’re married,” he turned to Graham as he spoke, “and, not only that, but expecting a child as well. And you,” he turned to Walsh now, “you’re engaged and about to follow the same path as him. And I had no idea any of this was going on.”  


“You have a busy job,” Walsh tried to defend Killian to himself, “we understand that you can’t always be around.”

 

“That’s true, but I didn’t even know that you were getting married until you called and asked me to be your best man.” Killian tried to keep his voice from raising. “What kind of best friend does that make me?”

 

“You had your own stuff going on—”

 

“Stop making excuses for me, Walsh. I have been so busy trying to stay away from home, from my past, that I let myself forget about my responsibilities to you guys as your friend. I could never even _begin_ to tell you how sorry I am.

 

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it,” Graham squeezed Killian on the shoulder. “You’re here now, and we’ve still got a few weeks left with you. This is your perfect opportunity to make up for lost time.”

 

“He’s right,” Walsh agreed, “but you won’t be able to do that if you leave now. So, what do you say?” He got up from his seated position and extended his hand to Killian. “You coming back to the party?”

 

“Of course,” Killian took Walsh’s hand and let the shorter man help him up from the floor. Killian then turned and helped Graham up, who wasted no time in pulling both Killian and Walsh into a group hug.

 

“I love you, guys.” Graham said as he squeezed them both tightly, as if he were hanging on for dear life.

 

Both men hugged him back and returned the sentiment just as Elsa made her way into the hall.

 

“Oh—I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

 

All three of them jumped apart and answered her “No,” simultaneously.

 

Elsa bit her lip against a laugh and nodded back in the direction of the open door. “Emma’s ready to do cake and presents now, but she wanted you guys to be there.”

 

“Right,” Walsh started back toward the apartment, “come on, fellas.”

 

The group all returned to the party where the lights had been turned down and Emma was standing at a table in the middle of the room, a cake with (presumably) thirty candles on it sitting aglow in front of her.

 

When she saw Walsh walk back into the room, Emma reached out for him and he went to stand by her side, looping an arm around her waist as everyone in the room began to sing. Emma felt her cheeks begin to flush as the party guests sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to her, but she instead chose to focus on her birthday wish. Although this wasn’t really her birthday, she thought it couldn’t hurt to try.

 

As the song wound down, she closed her eyes and made her wish, only opening them again after she’d blown out every candle and was greeted with resounding applause from her guests.

 

“Alright,” Elsa called attention to herself as she turned on the lights and moved to the center of the room with a knife on top in one hand and a stack of paper plates in the other. She set the plates down on the table before picking up the knife and cutting into the cake. She came away with a sizeable piece and set it on a plate before handing it to Emma. “First piece for the birthday girl.” She said with a wink before returning back to the cake and making sure everyone got a piece.

 

After the cake was finished and all the presents had been opened, it was finally time for people to start leaving.

 

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” Graham pulled Emma in and hugged her tightly, running his hand over the back of her hair as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “And happy birthday.”

 

“Thank you so much for coming,” she smiled when he let her go and moved to hug Ruby next. “Ruby you need to come back and hang out with Elsa and me. We miss you so much.”

 

The brunette smiled and hugged Emma tightly, nodding in agreement. “I will, I promise.”

 

With a few final goodbyes, Emma let the Humberts go, relieved that she’d made it through the whole night. However, she was not looking forward to cleaning up.

 

“Look at this place,” she remarked to Elsa, who had already brought out some trash bags to throw things into.

 

“I know, but don’t worry about it,” she said with a tired smile. “Walsh and I can clean it up. It was your party, after all.”

 

“No way,” Emma protested, picking up a few empty cups and bottles, “you guys went through enough planning this thing for me. Cleaning up my own apartment afterward is the very least I could do.”

 

“Sweetheart,” Walsh cut in, taking the trash out of her hands and putting it into Elsa’s bag, “relax. Let us clean up. Think of it as an early birthday present. From all three of us.”

 

Emma felt as though she couldn’t argue with that and kissed Walsh tenderly on the lips, cupping his face in one hand. “Thank you for everything tonight. It was amazing.”

 

“You’re amazing,” he countered, which only made Emma rolled her eyes, although the smile on her face was unmistakable.

 

“I’m gonna go shower.”

 

Once Emma was gone, Killian, Elsa, and Walsh set about cleaning her apartment, gathering all of the plates, cups, and anything else that hadn’t been there before the party started. With the three of them working diligently, the mess was reduced to nothing in less than thirty minutes.

 

Elsa had volunteered to walk the bags over to the garbage chute, and Killian offered to help her. As they walked down the hallway, Elsa eyed him intently, picking up on his sour mood.

 

“What’s gotten into you tonight, Killian? You aren’t acting like your normal self.”

 

He scoffed at that, deciding to let her question go unanswered as he lifted the bags into the chute and tossed them down. “If anything, love, I’m acting more like myself than I have this whole bloody visit.”

 

“Did something happen?” Elsa asked as he dropped the last of the bags down the chute and made to walk away. She stopped him, holding him firmly by the wrist and not letting him leave. “You can tell me.”

 

Killian sighed and clenched his eyes shut before he decided to talk. “I made a huge mistake. I let petty jealousy cloud my judgment and I insulted Emma. Majorly. At her own birthday party. I feel terrible about it, but I don’t want to make her upset by addressing it.”

 

“What did you say?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“I… I insinuated that she had sex with Graham.”

 

“You _what_?” Elsa asked, her jaw hanging open before she covered her face with both of her hands. “Oh my god, Killian, you need to apologize.”

 

“You think I don’t know that?” He nearly shouted, but managed to calm himself down. “I want to, but I can’t do it now. She’s too upset with me.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“I made her cry.” Killian felt his stomach twist painfully as he spoke those last words, wondering if the anguish he was feeling wasn’t punishment enough for his actions tonight.

 

“Wow, then it’s _definitely_ bad.” Elsa said, mostly to herself, as she chewed on her bottom lip. “We’ve been friends for years, and I’ve only seen her cry, like, three times.”

 

“I don’t know what to do.” Killian finally admitted, letting his shoulders slump as he looked to the ground in defeat.

 

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Elsa reassured him with a comforting pat on the back. “I’m always here if you need to talk, but we better get back or Walsh’ll think we ditched him.”  
  
Killian cracked a minimal smile at that and let Elsa lead him back to Emma’s apartment.

 

-/-

 

That night, as Killian tried to sleep, he tossed and turned, unable to remove the image of Emma’s teary eyes from the forefront of his mind.

 

When he finally managed to get to sleep, his dreams were plagued with her angry shouts and his hurtful words. He woke up many times during the night, trying his best to stop thinking about Emma and how he had so clearly hurt her.

 

It was hard for him to force down his guilt, and over the next few days it began to eat him alive. He knew he needed to talk to someone about it.

 

It didn’t take long after that realization for Killian to take Elsa up on her offer.

 

 

-/-

 

  
It was around seven o’clock on Thursday evening when Elsa heard a knock on her door and opened it to find Killian standing on the other side.

 

His hands were balled up in the pockets of his jeans and he barely looked her in the eye as he muttered, “Evening, Elsa. Mind if I come in?”

 

She looked him over warily, taking note of the bags under his eyes and overall disheveled appearance. His shirt looked to be buttoned wrong, and his hair looked even more unruly than usual. His nose and cheeks were red from the cold outside, and his eyes almost looked like they were a little red, too. After she realized that she’d been staring at him, Elsa smiled warmly and stepped to the side, granting him access to her apartment. “I would be honored.”

 

He shed his coat and she took it from him, draping it over the back of a chair as she motioned for him to sit on the nearby couch. “Can I get you anything?”

 

He rubbed his hands together hastily as he looked about the room. “Maybe just my coat back. It’s bloody freezing in here. How are you not cold?”

 

Elsa made a face and shrugged. “It’s not that bad. Don’t be such a baby.”

 

At his expression of offense, she folded her arms across her chest and sighed. “Why don’t I make us some coffee?”

 

Killian grunted in approval and she dashed off to the kitchen, grabbing two white mugs and setting them down on the counter. “So, Killian,” Elsa started as she leant toward her open fridge, pulling out a carton of cream, “what’s on your mind?”

 

He bristled at the question, unsure of how to respond. With a sigh, he leaned back into the couch and rested his hands on his knees. “I, uh,” he trailed off, fingers dusting absent-mindedly at his knees, “I really don’t even know where to start.”

 

She abandoned the coffee upon hearing his answer, crossing the room to sit at the other end of the couch, leaving a buffer between them, lest he become uncomfortable. “Why don’t you build on that?”

 

“I’ve been going out of my mind,” he confessed with a sigh, running his hand over his hair and leaning his head back until it was stopped by the couch, where he rested it comfortably. “I just feel so awful. I can barely sleep and I’m glad I’m not working right now, or I wouldn’t be of much use there, either.”

 

Elsa nodded as she waited for him to go on.

 

“I just can’t seem to stop myself from thinking about it, and it’s driving me mad. What I said was so callous and cruel.”

 

“Well,” she sighed and folded her arms across her chest, “what are you going to do about that?”

 

He shrugged helplessly and closed his eyes. “What _can_ I do?”

 

“You can talk to her, Killian. You can apologize.” He started to protest, but she held a hand up to silence him. “I know that you may not think that’s a good idea, and, you’re probably right. But she’s never going to believe that you’re sorry unless you tell her yourself.”

 

“I can’t, Elsa. At least not right now. I don’t want to show up at her apartment unannounced.”

 

“Oh, you mean, like you just did to me? You’re making up excuses.” She moved closer to him on the couch and put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you just call her now and ask if the two of you can talk tomorrow?”

 

Killian shook his head, “I don’t want to upset her on her birthday.”  
  


Elsa bit her lip as she considered what Killian had said. “I guess you’re right. But you have to talk to her sometime.”

 

He nodded and they sat in silence for a few moments until the familiar sound of keys in the lock could be heard outside of Elsa’s door. Just then, a young-looking redhead with her hair in braided pigtails walked in, turning to lock the door behind her as she started to speak.

 

“Hi, Elsa, sorry I’m late, but Kristoff got off of work later than usual and I couldn’t leave the baby until he got home, and you know how that goes. Anyway,” she turned around and began unbuttoning her coat, “I’m here now and I was thinking we could—” she froze in her tracks and looked back and forth between Elsa and Killian, a shocked expression on her face. “Oh, wow, I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” Her face then broke into a grin and she crossed the room, extending her hand to Killian.

 

“Hi, I’m Anna, Elsa’s sister.”

 

He smiled and nodded in response. “Nice to meet you. Killian Jones.”

 

“Oh, wow, an _accent_!” She let go of his hand and moved to sit on the arm of the couch next to him. “Elsa didn’t tell me that she had a boyfriend! But you shouldn’t feel badly about that. Sometimes I have to literally sit her down and _pry_ information out of her. I’m sure you know that if you’re dating Elsa, though. It takes a while to break through her defenses, but, again, if you’re dating her you already know that. How old are you? You look older than Elsa, but that’s not surprising. She’s always had a thing for older—”

 

“Anna!” Elsa finally cut in, her voice firm and loud. “Killian is _not_ my boyfriend. He is Walsh’s best man, here for the wedding.”

 

Anna’s cheeks reddened immediately and she covered her face in her hands. “Oh my goodness, I am so embarrassed.” She turned to Killian with a meek smile on her face. “I’m sorry, I saw you two sitting so close, with her hand on your shoulder, and I guess I just got a little carried away. Sorry again.”

 

Killian smiled at Anna and shook his head. “No worries, love. No harm done.” He rose from the couch and walked over to his coat, putting it on before turning back to the two sisters. “I guess I ought to be on my way now. It was lovely to meet you, Anna.”

 

Elsa got up from where she sat and followed him to the door. “Are you going to be okay?” She asked, her voice low enough so that only he could hear.

 

“I’ll be fine, Elsa,” he reassured her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He pulled a small, white box out of one of his coat pockets, adjusting its red bow before handing it to Elsa. “Would you give this to Emma for me?” When the blonde nodded, he added, “Tell her I said happy birthday.”

 

With that, he turned to leave and Elsa closed the door behind him.

 

-/-

 

When Emma’s awoke on Friday – her birthday – she groaned loudly before rolling out of bed and skulking off to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she stood in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped around her and tucked under her arms, as she studied herself.

 

“I don’t look thirty,” she said to herself as she started to comb through her wet hair. “I look… twenty-eight, at the _oldest_.” She sighed and finished combing and drying her hair before padding off to her closet to find something to wear. She settled on a white dress shirt tucked into a burgundy pencil skirt and decided to tie her hair up into a high ponytail.

 

Emma was ready to go when there was a knock on her door. Grabbing her purse and coat, she opened it to find Elsa standing there with a gift bag in her hands.

 

“Happy birthday!” Elsa cooed happily, pulling Emma into a tight hug. “I have your present”  
  
  
“Elsa, you didn’t have to,” Emma started, although she was already tearing through the tissue paper. Under it all, nestled at the bottom of the bag was an emerald green cable-knit sweater. Emma’s breath caught in her throat as she took it out of the bag and held it up to herself. “Is this the same sweater we saw when we went shopping last month?”

 

Elsa nodded eagerly, a mile-wide grin on her face as she clapped excitedly. “Yes, it is! I bought it the next day and have been keeping it in my apartment since!”

 

Emma laughed at her friend’s thoughtfulness. It wasn’t unlike Elsa to be so prepared for this occasion. She took gift giving very seriously.

 

“It’s perfect,” Emma sighed as she pulled her friend into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

 

“No problem,” Elsa beamed as they separated and looked down at her watch. “We better go, we’re running a little behind!”

 

Emma sprang into action then, draping the sweater over the back of a nearby chair before running out of her apartment behind Elsa.

 

-/-

 

After a fairly uneventful workday, Emma was relieved to finally be able to leave. She said goodbye to Elsa outside of their workplace and took a cab to Walsh’s building. He was taking her out for dinner to celebrate.

 

Walsh was waiting for her outside, and when her cab pulled up, he hopped in beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders as he gave the restaurant’s address to the driver.

 

“There’s my birthday girl,” he said as he kissed her on the temple, hugging her from the side as the cab pulled away from the curb. “How was work today?”

 

“Uh, it was alright,” she answered as he reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. She squeezed his hand and he smiled down at her before turning to look out the window as the city whizzed past them.

 

“That’s good,” he remarked as he turned to her, letting his eyes trail over her face fondly as he looked at her.

 

“Are you staring at me?” She asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious as her cheeks began to flush.

 

“Don’t mind me. I’m just being reminded again of how incredibly lucky I am to be able to call you my future-wife.”

 

She chuckled at that – not because it was funny, but because she had no idea what to say back – and rested her head on his shoulder for the rest of the cab ride.

 

When they arrived at their destination, they got out and he held the door to the restaurant open for her as they entered. Their reserved table was waiting for them and they had only been seated for a few minutes before Walsh reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out an envelope.

 

He handed it across the table to Emma and she regarded him with a tilt of her head as she accepted it and opened it. It was a birthday card with a cartoon monkey on its front. The monkey was holding onto a tree by its feet, and its eyes were bright red hearts. Underneath it were the words ‘ _happy birthday_ ’ printed in bold, multicolored letters. Emma bit back a laugh when she looked up at Walsh and saw the eager smile on his face. She opened the card, and a pop-up heart opened up before her with the words ‘ _you drive me bananas!_ ’ printed underneath it.

 

She giggled to herself at the card and looked up at her fiancé, whose excitement hadn’t faded. “Oh my god, Walsh, I love you, but you’re so lame.” They both shared a laugh as she went on to read what he had handwritten inside. “Dear Emma, happy birthday. You are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Also I hope you like your birthday gift. Love always, Walsh.”

 

Emma looked up at Walsh again when she finished reading. “Well, that was a lovely message, but I think I missed the birthday gift.”

 

“That’s because I didn’t give it to you yet!” Again, his hand disappeared into the inside pocket of his jacket and he pulled out another, smaller envelope. “Ta-da!”

 

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Emma reached for the envelope and opened it, finding an appointment card inside. Confused, she read the words printed on its front: “Thank you for making your appointment with Vera Wang, we look forward to meeting all of your wedding needs.” Her eyes widened as she looked at Walsh again, and the smile on his face was so wide she wondered inwardly if it hurt.

 

“Walsh you _didn’t_!”

 

“I most certainly _did_!” He nearly shouted in his excitement. I made us an appointment with them for when we get fitted in our wedding attire.”

 

Emma’s cheeks were beginning to hurt with how wide her smile was. “How did you even pull this off? They have people on their waiting list for _years_.”

 

His cheeks flushed as he lowered his gaze to his napkin and toyed with it somewhat nervously. “I may or may not have booked the appointment before I even proposed. And then pulled a few strings to get it moved up.”

 

“I can’t believe this! When is the appointment?” She asked, still in complete and total disbelief.

 

“We’ll go a week before the wedding. Just so that there are no hiccups in between the fitting and the big day. I’m really excited to see what they’ll have in store for us, Em.”

 

Her face softened as she stood from her chair so that she could lean across the table and kiss him. He met her halfway and cupped her face in his hand as their lips met. “You are unbelievable,” she told him, “this may be the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

 

“You deserve it,” he replied as he pulled away and sat back in his chair, his smile still firm on his face.

 

After Emma’s excitement boiled down, the pair spent a pleasant evening together talking and eating and drinking and laughing and, when it was time for them to go, they left the restaurant and stood together on the sidewalk.

 

“Thank you,” she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him on the lips, delighting in the way his arms wrapped around her waist, “for this _amazing_ birthday, and your even more amazing gift. I still can’t believe you got me an appointment with Vera freaking Wang!”

 

“Only the best for my future wife,” he said as it weren’t a big deal and stepped away from her so that he could hail a cab. When one pulled up, he opened the door for her and kissed her once more before letting her get in. He tapped on the window and she lowered it, still smiling as he leaned into kiss her one last time.

 

“Happy birthday, sweetheart. Call you tomorrow,” he promised as he stepped away from the cab and let it pull away from the curb.

 

-/-

 

Emma hadn’t been home for ten minutes before there was a knock on her door. She opened it to Elsa, who was dressed in sweatpants and a tee shirt with her hair tied up in a bun.

 

“Hey,” she greeted Emma as she walked into the apartment and sat down on the couch. “How was dinner?”

 

“It was amazing, Elsa!” Emma nearly shouted as she followed her friend and sat down next to her. “Walsh got the two of us an appointment with Vera Wang!”  
  


“Whoa,” Elsa’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped, “you and me?!” she asked excitedly.

 

“No,” Emma laughed, “me and Walsh!”

 

“Oh,” Elsa deflated, “I guess that’s just as cool.”

 

Emma shook her head at Elsa’s comment before Elsa spoke again. “Oh! I have something for you!”  
  
  
When Elsa pulled a small, white box out of the pocket of her sweatpants, Emma groaned. “Another gift Elsa? The sweater was perfect. You didn’t have to get me anything else.”  


Elsa made a sound of disbelief at that and shook her head. “Are you kidding? After what I spent on that sweater, I’m not buying you a thing for the next three _years_. This isn’t from me.”

 

Emma furrowed her brow as she accepted the box from Elsa and untied the ribbon around it.

 

“Hey, can I borrow your red cardigan? I have this thing tomorrow, and I think it’d look great with the outfit I want to wear.”  
  


“Yeah, help yourself,” Emma dismissed her friend with a wave of her hand as she opened the box and found a folded piece of paper inside. She unfolded the note and read its neatly-written message.

 

“ _Emma,_

_I could never apologize enough for what I said to you. You probably hate me even more than usual right now, but I saw this when I was out and it made me think of you._

_Happy birthday,_

_—KJ_ ”

 

Under the note she found a silver charm bracelet. Her breath caught in her throat when she removed it from the box and found a single charm hanging from its chain: a white swan.

 

Above all of the emotions Emma felt warring inside of her, the most prevalent was confusion. Why had he bothered to get her a gift? Did he think that he could buy her forgiveness? She was still thinking over it all when Elsa returned from Emma’s bedroom, the cardigan draped over her arm.

 

“So, what is it?” She asked as she walked past Emma and over to the fridge.

 

“It’s a charm bracelet,” Emma answered, pausing before asking the question she really wanted to know. “Why did he give it to you and not me?”

 

Elsa turned away from the fridge and closed it, walking back to where Emma sat and looking down at her earnestly. “He’s afraid.”

 

Emma shook her head incredulously, “I’m sure it was just an act so that he wouldn’t have to face me.”

 

“Emma, seriously. He feels terrible, and he’s been losing sleep. I could see it in his face.”

 

Emma felt her stomach drop at that last bit of information. Sure, she was incredibly hurt by what he’d said, but she couldn’t help but feel bad over how poorly he was doing. She bit her bottom lip pensively before she said, “Maybe I ought to have a talk with him.”

 

“Yeah,” Elsa smiled softly and squeezed Emma’s shoulder, “maybe you should.”

 


End file.
